


Long Live the Queen

by SoftRequiem



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: F/M, Feral Behavior, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Nesting, Predacon nature, Sparklings, mama predaqueen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 15:50:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2115741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftRequiem/pseuds/SoftRequiem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was believed that all predacons had died in the explosion, but one specimen was being studied further in a separate lab.<br/>"A Predaqueen for a Predaking...." </p><p>EDIT 10-28-17: Old story deleted</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Born in Fire

  
  


  
  


_**Long Live the Queen  
Soft Requiem** _

_Please support the official release_

* * *

  
  


_AND SHOCKWAVE SCANS THROUGH THE DAMAGED TANKS that once held the evolving predacons that would have become his lords army._ One scan and there was less than a percentage chance of something surviving, and therefore there was no effort wasted on trying to salvage anything from the lab. If the sudden surge of heat didn't send the new frames into shock, the explosion and the debris would have finished them off. They would salvage what equipment could be repaired, but there would be nothing else.

However, Shockwave doesn't put any CPU power towards the army, his current concern lays with a smaller lab that was attached by a tunnel deeper into the mountain side. Where he was growing a different predacon to collect data on a set of predacon bones that perplexed scientists during the golden age.

Through the ages, the set of fragmented bones were studied, put through endless testing but very little data could be extracted through these tests. The only bones found were teeth, a section of the lower left jaw and what many believed to either be a spark chamber, or an ignition chamber. The debate of what exactly this was had been going on since, and before its discovery. Of course, others like it had been found, but the key difference that made this discovery so fascinating was its sheer size.

It was larger, far larger than anything else that had been found before it.

It was discovered by an archaeologist in training, his first few days in the field when his scanners picked up something in the Cybertronian badlands. The highlight of his career, he devoted all of his time to studying what it was, and what it could have looked like when it ruled a primitive Cybertron.

No other bones were discovered in the site, so he used previously found bones to compare it with. And in his logs (that could be found) he hypothesized that it was a mutated breed of the _Acutuc Filum Lacerta_ branch, or commonly known as the Sharp Wire Lizard. The jaw comparison was almost identical, and so had been the teeth with the variation of proportion. The new discovery was only larger.

But then came to question as to _why_ it had been so large. _Why_ did a creature, who was _the_ dominating predator during its time, need to become _larger_? It was the only specimen found, and so no other fossils could aid in answering these questions.

Until Shockwave was able to obtain these fossils for his own research.

He created the secondary lab to further his research, to isolate the one predacon to see the difference between its brethren and watch it grow and evolve. Even during its early stages, comparing it to the stats of Predaking, this one was already larger, and potentially more dangerous. There was no question in its power, and Shockwave wanted more definitive data before presenting it to his Lord. He would dare not waste his Lord's time with theories he had yet to develop.

The first major difference was the aforementioned size. The second predacon in the incubation chamber, only fourteen cycles old, had be place in a larger vat where as in Predaking, had been in the first chamber for almost thirty cycles. Shockwave estimated that, when fully evolved, it would have been almost twice the weight of Predaking. Wings were broad, wider, not only to carry its weight as it flew but they were not the wing structure for swift maneuvers. It needed its wings to fly over long distances while conserving energy.

Its plating made the beast heavier, during the age of its reign, the apex predacon was widely known to have been a violent species. Many bones had been found damaged or broken from prehistoric battles. They fought among themselves for territory and precious limited resources. This was a species built to fight, to take serious damage and survive its battles time and again.

The ignition chamber, the main source of the firepower of the Predacon species, had larger air intakes, but the tubes feeding the fire would narrow further in. The fire of this specimen was hotter.

Massive pumps, cables that were as thick as his leg ran through its frame and limbs. Where Predaking was built for speed and agility, this specimen was built for strength and power.

This leviathan was a literal, walking war machine. _But why?_ Why was _this_ specimen so different compared to Predaking?

He discovers his answer upon reading a theory of a nameless bot whose name could not be found in the records he had. This theory states that the Predacon apex predator species was split in genders, a sexual dimorphism. Using examples of others, somewhat similar, smaller species, he believes that the _gender_ determined why this specimen was so large.

Within his hypothesis, he had catalog every bone measurement and compared it to the 'male' and defined the 'mutant' as a _female_.

He makes his argument solid. The female's life cycle was different from the male. It was more aggressive, it needed to feed not only itself but its young and it needed to defend its young. From an early age, it was often seen, in other related species, the female was on the front lines of survival. He argues, that the female _had_ to be larger. The females were the only ones that would give life to the next generation and ensured the survival of their species. These specimens were found with a set number of unfertilized eggs inside their gestation chambers and the instinctual drive to pass on their genes would have been a real concern to the female of the species.

Nature ensured, through millions of years of evolution and adaptation, that the female would have a fighting chance so that their young would survive.

The Sharp Wire species, he believes, would have been devoted parents, and partnered with only a single mate in their lifetime. There would be a courting period, in which the male must prove himself capable and worthy of the females time and attentions. How this was done, he believes during the mating season, the male would fight over the females. Perhaps there was a dance or some sort of display the male had to perform for the female to communicate his intent of reproduction and not killing.

The CPU of the female was larger, more input was placed in nasal receptors than the male. He also finds something found in the female that the male lacked, it was small, about the size of his clenched fist just behind the CPU that connected to the increased nasal receptors. He doesn't know what its for.

The document goes further into the theory of its behaviors. The author states that the Sharp Wire Predacon weren't very social with each other outside of its mating season. The last thing a male would want to encounter was a female protecting her territory or her nest. She wouldn't hesitate to accept his challenge and more often than not, she would win due to her size and strength advantage.

But this still leaves questions that Shockwave demands to be answered.

He created the secondary lab to further his research, to isolate the one predacon to see the difference between its brethren and watch it grow and evolve. Even during its early stages, comparing it to the stats of Predaking, this one was already larger, and potentially more dangerous. There was no question in its power, and Shockwave wanted more definitive data before presenting it to his Lord. He would dare not waste his Lord's time with theories he had yet to develop.

Everything about the predacon was larger. It's basic structure, its wing span, its weight, and thickness of armor made Predaking look almost small had it been given to chance to fully evolve.

His Lord and his creation stand beside him, over looking at what was once the secondary lab, and against the calculated odds, the damage to this lab had not been as severe as the main lab. The structure was still sound, only minor damage to the equipment and tank upon the first scans.

“Keeping secrets are we?” His Lords tone is neutral, and Shockwave takes not that he is neither pleased nor displeased.

“Forgive me, my Lord Megatron, it was not my intention to keep this a secret until more data could be collected. I believed it illogical until it was definitive that the specimen would survive.”

“No harm done Shockwave, so tell me, what would need a tank this large?”

Shockwave reflects the data from the Golden Age on a data pad to his Lord. “The fossils were found deep in the Cybertron Badlands, and only one had been found. Similar to the same breed as Predaking, however, it was placed in a heavier weight class due to its sheer size. Most believed it to be a specimen with mutated CNA that resulted in its large size and not something that had been created naturally. An isolated incident, but my studies have shown no mutated foundations to the CNA and I have concluded that its size, is in fact, natural.”

“A larger breed? How fascinating, but tell me this Shockwave, where is its body?”

“I am still investigating my Lord, however, upon first scans there are signs of a struggle from within the tank. The probability is astoundingly low, but there is a percentage chance that it had survived and escaped.”

His creation, he watches with a stern single optics, crouches low and kneads the burnt ground with his talons. The folded wing struts on his back click with his agitation, he opens his mouth and inhales the burnt-sweetness of the tanks gestational fluids and what other scent that lies beneath. The clear indents of massive clawed peds could not be over looked.

Cut clear evidence that the predacon inside had _survived_ and got away from the fire. Shockwave continues. “The tracks lead down corridor B-3, and there is further evidence that it had access to its primary weapons system from the chard remains of the tunnel. I believe it dug its way out before the tunnel was completely buried. At this moment, I have several remote scanners combing through the immediate area, they have been reporting signs of the feral predacon outside of the base.”

Megatron watches as Predaking leans forward to take in the scent directly from the print. “So you say we have a wayward predacon on the loose?”

“If the predacon has survived outside elements and adapted its systems to the atmosphere outside the gestational chamber, then yes, there is indeed a feral predacon loose on the planet.”

Predaking stands up, facing his creator, “Where could she have gone?”

Megatron's optics narrow, “She?”

“My Lord, Predaking is correct upon the term 'she'. The predacon I was gestating here is a female of his species. I was investigating a outlier set of fossils, far larger than the ones I had derived for Predaking. I had, once, believed them to be a mutant set, but my research points towards more natural causes. My Lord, though it is not my place, I wish to state reason for caution. The female Predacon is a force of nature, she will be feral, and should she and Predaking fight, my calculations favor the female in battle. I would not advise a frontal assault of recapture.”

“But _where_ could she have gone Shockwave?” Predaking presses, his struts clicking more and more, talons scrapping together as his actions became more animated. “Where could she possibly go?”

Shockwave takes a moment to gather possible data, points of interest and under a few seconds he removes possibilities to favor those more probable. “I assume the female is operating on pure instinct. She will first want to find a location she can defend and hide. Somewhere high above the ground. A mountain side or a sheer cliff side. It is well documented that they will dug out a place to nest. After she has created such a location, she will then hunt for fuel. How, precisely this species hunts, I have yet to discover.”

Predaking takes in all the information in silence. Amber optics wide and his plating was tight against his frame. “My Lord,” he turns his helm towards the silver mech, “Allow me to bring her home. I fear that if the Autobots find her first that they will enslave her, they'll...”

“Calm yourself Predaking,” Megatron places a servo upon his shoulder, “You have my blessings to bring our wayward on back where she belongs.”

  
Predaking leaves without a moments hesitation, exiting the remains of the mountain and taking flight and soon he was but a dot in the distance. Megatron places his hands behind him, looking forward and regarding Shockwave at the corner of his optics.

“Shockwave, tell me more of this new _beast_... What power does it have?”

“...the female is powerful, my Lord, Predaking will surely die is she wishes it. I believe her power is second only to you.”

“What are the chances of a pacification program in place? Would she obey her masters?”

“I must assume that her processors work in a higher function than Predaking, with some adjustments and further study upon the subjects CPU, a pacification program would have her obey.”

Megatron growls in amusement. “Then surely she would be a great tool for our cause.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


AND PREDAKING KNOWS that a scent cannot be tracked in the air, the currents wipe it clean, nothing remains to be tracked. However, he scans the ground for all possible locations where she would build a nest. The desert is a prime location. Stable temperatures for their massive frames, the weather remains almost constant and the air and skies are clean and clear. Miles from the mountains, he comes across a section of desert where the rocks go deep into the earth, perhaps in one point in history it might have been the bottom of an ocean trench, but now it served as a deep hiding place, a perfect location to nest.

He marks it on his hud as a possibility. It would take him several days to explore the channels, they branch off into several other paths and he must keep in mind that she would likely dig a nest high in the rock walls.

At this moment, what little he has explored, appear untouched.

He was then about to depart, has he not looked back and... _oh._

Around the bend, he finds something.

A pile of freshly disturbed soil.

He crawls close, his wings raised on his back to detect any and all disturbances in the air and he monitors any sound in the immediate area. The dirt was a different color than the soil it rested upon, but where did it come from? There were no holes in the ground, so Predaking tilted his helm and lifted his neck, and looked _up._

True enough, there was a pocket in the wall, a few meters above his helm, he listens closely. Silence.

He digs his talons into the rock face to climb, and it was only a few seconds effort to reach the edge of the hallow, he remains cautious. Something inside him tells him to _be weary_ , to keep away should the female be in recharge. But his need to find the female trumps this message of caution.

Inside the hallow, he finds a carved out burrow that goes just deep enough for him to comfortably walk in a circle. He can see the depths of her talons into the surface, and how parts had been melted from extreme heat.

In the back of the hallow, he can see what he believes to be the very beginnings of a _nest_. A ring of melted rocks sit in line, and it holds a thin layer of soft sand and glittering stones. The sand still held the imprint of the female, he can see where she had curled up to recharge for the night cycle, and though the scent was stale, perhaps a few cycles old, he knew that she had spent some time here.

He can't stop himself from thrusting his muzzle into the sand, trying to gain _more_ of that wondrous scent. It was something warm, some he had not come across and yet all to familiar. It was not the burnt-sweetness of the gestational fluid inside of Shockwave's lab, no, this was something far more primal.

New lines of code present itself without his permission. They're demanding to find the female. And Predaking is helpless to obey this instinct.

For now, his frame falls to the side, and he continues to rub his helm into what little is left of her scent, his legs stretch, and talons knead deeper into the sand. _Where are you_? He asks himself through the haze, _Where is my queen_?

  
  


* * *

_**Five weeks later....** _

Ratchet's brow furrows when he comes across yet another human transmission, _another_ reported sighting of a great beast in the desert. Part of him knows that its that dreadful beast Predaking, and yet, the reported sightings _do not match_ Predaking entirely.

Predaking's plating was mostly dark colored, but this one was reported to be... mostly cream? Red 'eyes'? No, perhaps Predaking suddenly cared about his appearance.... Ratchet shook the thought from his helm, it was a stupid thought.

However, the reportings still worry him, and once more he questions if they had really destroyed all of the predacons in that mountain.

“Another sighting old friend?” Ratchet is grateful that Optimus often extends his EM field when he enters the command center, otherwise he would have jumped out of his armor in fright. Ratchet sighs, but nodded. “Yes, these increased sightings are worrisome Optimus. Whatever this creature is, it's getting to close to the humans. And... I don't believe it to be Predaking. The descriptions just don't match.”

Optimus stepped up the screen, scanning over the numerous reports so far. Within the last week alone, there was a total of four, far to many and to close together for comfort. Ratchet was true to his word, the descriptions did not match up tp Predaking.

“Optimus, are you _sure_ that all the predacons in that mountain were destroyed?”

“I can account for the ones in the main lab, however, Shockwave would have anticipated being found at some point in time. I would have no doubt that he kept a few separate from the others.”

“What are we going to do Optimus? The predacon is getting to close to the human settlements, it's only a matter of time before someone is hurt... or killed.”

“We need to gather more information first Ratchet, with a predacon we cannot go in blind.”

“I've already began to work on where it could be, the reports were all made in the same general location.” Ratchet pulls up a map, and points towards a cluster of red dots around what Optimus believes is a pond of some sort. “All the reports were made around here, Raf explained it as a 'swimming hole', young humans go here to escape the heat. I've also contacted Agent Fowler, I'm sorry Optimus but I needed human assistance to keep the younglings away from the area. He confirmed that the area was sealed off for now.”

“Very good Ratchet,” Optimus leans forward, “But the question remains, what is a predacon doing by itself, none of the reports state there was another being with them. Do you believe there is something at this location that has Megatron interested?”

“No. An energon deposit would have contaminated the water, I've scanned the area several times... there's nothing of interest there.”

It was true. Optimus had actually dropped the children off there once during a hot day. There were many humans there playing and relaxing in the water. It was shaded by some trees but other than the natural formations of rock, it was unimpressive. So perhaps the predacon was not acting out on orders. Was it acting out on anything? Did Megatron even have the ability to control it?

“What about a lone predacon? Perhaps there is a slim chance that this one was not given an obedience program and its acting on its own free will.”

Ratchet crossed his arms, reading over the data and the reports. “Hmmm... It's... possible. I can't say for sure Optimus.”

“Very well. For now, we should make it a priority to gather information, if possible, perhaps convince the predacon peacefully that the location is not suited for its needs.”

“Predacons being peaceful? Bah, Optimus, never change.”

 

* * *

_**One week later...** _

The plan was to survey the surroundings, and slowly bring it closer to the lake in the hopes of finding any evidence that a predacon was truly taking residence within the area. Arcee and Smokescreen had taken the north end of the lake, Bulkhead had taken the south with Wheeljack.

After an hours search, it was Smokescreen that stumbled over evidence that something big was, _in fact_ , in the area. It was an indent in the ground, and he had slipped along the edge. He stumbles backwards, optics glancing down to see the odd shape and its depth.

“Hey, look at this.” Smokescreen points towards the track he had almost fallen into, Arcee quick to his side. “Looks like something big came through here... It's old, maybe a cycle or so?”

“There's no other tracks,” Arcee noted, “It might have taken to the air from here. Ratchet, are you getting this?”

“ _Yes. Look at the size of those tracks... my Primus what are we dealing with... Are there any other signs its been in the area? Was it digging for something? Hunting something?”_

Arcee glances around, “Not that I can tell. There's just some broken trees and I did see some signs of soil deposits like it was trying to find something but stopped halfway through. Ratchet, do you think its looking for something?”

 

* * *

  
  


“I have some theories to the 'why' its been hanging around this area but nothing concrete. But I can't put the pieces together. There's no energon here, I've already tested soil samples.” Ratchet was pacing in front of the main computer, arms crossed over his chassis as he tried to think of a reason, _any logical reason_ why a predacon so large would stick around. “What is it doing there? What does it want?”

Raf had been staring down at the map with Miko at his side, Jack was sitting on the couch, watching as Optimus surveyed the sightings and reports.

“Ratchet,” Raf spoke up, “You said you think that this predacon isn't acting on orders right?”

“That's the main theory right now. No reports state or support Decepticon activity.”

“Okay, so hear me out, what if... what if the predacon is doing whats 'natural' to it?”

Ratchet stopped mid-step while Optimus looked down at the smallest of the humans in their care. “Doing what's natural?”

“Yeah,” Raf confirmed, a wide smile on his face, “How much information do you have on predacons? Did Cybertron ever have museums or a archaeological department or something? Using fossils to predict what extinct animals did when they were alive? Let's just assume that the predacon, is, doing what's only natural, instinctive. Maybe its trying to find a prime location to call a home or a nest or burrow. It's chasing humans off because they entered its territory. Could that be why it's suddenly showing up?”

Ratchet could actually feel his CPU stall in the astounding level of logic from the human. Why hadn't he thought of that before?

“I can see it.” Miko agreed. “I've been there a few times. There's a lot of nooks and crannies large enough to hide a predacon like Predaking. I don't think it would be to hard to hide this newbie. So you think its trying to make a home-base or something Raf?”

“Maybe, just maybe.”

“So lets roll with this theory,” Raf continued, “If the predacon is going to make a nest at the lake... and there's no energon at the lake... wouldn't it make sense that it would leave eventually? There's nothing keeping it there.”

“Well there's the lake,” Jack cut in, “The water is actually really nice when the sun is starting to go down. It's not that deep, maybe six or seven feet deep. I remember when there used to be water-proof solar lights at the bottom and string lights in the trees. It was really nice during the hottest summers here.”

 

* * *

  
  


Wheeljack crouches behind a large rock while Bulkhead had kept further back in the trees. His radar was picking up another Cybertronian signal, but it wasn't registering as any-bot they had encountered before. The EM signature was unknown, yet to be cataloged and so Wheeljack had signal immediate radio silence to the green plated Wrecker.

Old habits die hard, one never knew who was listening.

Bulkhead had been the one to point out the broken top layer of trees, and how the broken parts had given them a clear path of where the target had been going.

They point towards the center where the lake sat.

There was a loud _thoom_ of something heavy hitting the ground, and the rumbling thunder of that something growling low. He crept forward, keeping low to the ground and his EM field tight to his armor.

Bulkhead had fallowed his example.

He gets close enough to peer around an out cropping of rocks, and he holds his breath. The predacon they were tracking was sitting in the center of the pond. There were lights at the bottom of the water, giving off a soft glow that rippled as the beast settled down with a long sigh, large talons kneading at the sand and soil at the bottom.

'So it likes to lounge, nice.' The predacon was the same breed as Predaking, but that wasn't the only problem.

This wasn't Predaking. This new predacon was simply _massive._ This predacon was clearly in a different weight class. It's plating with a soft shade of white, high lighted with red panels and bright red bio-lights. Pink optics shuttered as it purred at the sensation of the water against its frame. Wings were folded and pressed against its long back, its tail resting on the bottom of the lake. Its array of horns appeared sharp, slimmer but it did not diminish the potential danger of how they could be used.

How could they have missed something _so big_? It maneuvered its neck to rest in an S shape, helm pointed downwards as it seemed to relax. Wheeljack takes several image captures, and takes the risk of sending them to Ratchet.

'Ratchet, this thing is huge. I don't have the fire-power to bring it down right now. We need to get out of here.'

Wheeljack stills when those optics widen, plating rattles and the beast growls loud when it lifts its frame out of the water. Its long helm turns slowly to the west, he can hear it inhaling. _Oh Primus please don't let it find me._ It's wings fluttered, water rolling off like a light rain.

It huffs, and then turns towards him. He takes as many image captures as he can before he dies.

But it leaps into the air, and beats its wings above his helm and flies off towards the open desert. 'Ratchet, I don't know what just happened but it just flew away. Sending you a general direction right now. I'm ready to come to base now. I've filled my near-death-qouta for the cycle.'

  
  


* * *

 

“It just flew away?” Smokescreen was sifting through the captures of the predacon, marveling at the size of such a beast. He admitted to himself that he was _disappointed_ that he didn't see it with his own optics. “Was it spooked or something?”

“No way something could 'spook' that thing. I know it didn't see it, it would have eaten me.”

“So why would it leave?” Bulkhead shifted his weight, sharing the same expression as Ratchet as they racked their CPU's for a possible answer. “Why would something so powerful just leave its territory?”

“Maybe it realized there wasn't anything for it there?” Miko submitted, “If there's nothing there to fight for, then why stay?”

Smokescreen paused on an image capture right before it had taken flight. There was something off about it. Apart from the predacon being massive, it looked... dare he say 'bloated'? “Hey Ratchet, does that look normal for a predacon?”

“What are you talking about? There's nothing normal about predacons.”

“No,” He points towards its mid-section, “I mean, it's frame. That doesn't look very aerodynamic to me. Its... fat. It's fat.”

“...what?”

 

* * *

_**Three weeks later....** _

The desert air is crisp in the morning, the chill of the night lifting to the warmth of the sunlight that wakes her from recharge. It had taken some time, but she had finally found a place to build her nest away from the organics. In the face of a high rock wall she had dig out her hallow, her nest is built deep within and filled with soft sand. The cramps come and go but she knows she's not quiet ready to release her eggs.

There was still time to gather energon crystals. She doesn't have the luxury to sit and relax with the morning sun. She has to find enough energon to last long enough for her eggs to hatch, she can't leave them alone.

She had tried several times to build a nest here and there, but those organics keep finding her, and it wasn't long before taller, armored beings had fallowed them. She can't fight them right now. She can't defend herself so close to laying.

She will not endanger her brood. She lifts herself from the nest, grunting as she felt just how swollen her gestational chamber was, she can feel... two, perhaps three or four eggs shifting around and her feeding lines are beginning to prime themselves for her hatchlings first nursing.

She peers out in the distance, tasting the air, she can taste only the sunlight, and she believes it safe enough to travel to where she had found energon before.

  
  


* * *

Predaking is quick to take charge, snarling at another drone as he takes a massive piece of energon for himself, even swatting one out of the way when he picks it up in his jaws and takes flight.

There is only one thing on his mind right now.

Find the Queen.  
Find the Queen.  
Find _his_ Queen.

He had been circling a place her scent had lingered for some time now. He has a general location of where the nest is, bt he has yet to find the nest itself. He had caught her scent in several spots here. There was a location to the north where he had found imprints of her paws, and evidence that she had dug deep for something. There was a sand bed that her scent was the strongest.

There she would press her frame into the ground and lay dormant for long periods of time. Predaking had nosed along the shape of her frame in the sand, it was changing every so slightly. Almost unnoticeable, oh, but he had _noticed_. Her scent was becoming... sweeter, softer, _warmer_. He could make out where her front limbs were curled up, and how her belly had pressed into the sand to create a slight bowl.

She's was certainly a healthy size, he finds some comfort in knowing that she was somehow surviving on her own. _How strong my queen must be_ , he thinks to himself, gazing off towards the ground as he searched yet again for the nest. It was a prime location, further away from the mountains where his dead brothers lay, and out of reach of organic creatures. There were high walls of rock to burrow into, and plenty of pathways to hide if needed.

Instinct has been running rampant sine his first departure, driving him forward until he had found the female and the nest. Predaking is not one to deny his nature.

Instinct demands a lot of things.

It demands only to find the nest, and then to properly court the female. He must be careful, females were violent, he could _die_ if he took a step to close and she would not hesitate to take him out of the sky if it came down to it. He must prove himself.   
Fortify the nest, show he can be a productive mate that can do more than simply lounge around. Bring her fuel to still her anger but a little. He would do all and more if it meant to lay beside her in a warm nest.

 

* * *

  
  


The second time the predacon is encountered was by Bumblebee, an energon source had suddenly pinged on the computer, and there was only a single spark reading in the area. The yellow mech was bridged a distance away from the source, and he was informed to only gather more information, not to engage, retreat if spotted.

Bumblebee crouches down as low as he can against the dry rock, looking down at the predacon and live-feeding the visuals to base.

The predacon was just as large in the image captures. Massive talons ripping rock from the ground as it made quick work to devour exposed, _raw_ energon. Mandibles would grip the lavender crystals, and sharp denta would break it small enough to travel down its long throat. He suspects that its ignition chamber would then melt them down before it would land into its fuel tanks.

From his high perch, he can look down on the predacon's back. Those tremendous wings folded neatly, something splaying out to aid in the beasts balance or extra leverage to yank a crystal from the earth. It was larger than Predaking, this Bumblebee could confirm. If he had to make a rough guess, he would have to say maybe a third-times larger in mass alone. However, there was something else that made Bumblebee focus on its mid-section.

Namely it's abdominal region, it wasn't flat like Predaking, no, it was _round_ , it bulged slightly on either side of the white predacon and it appeared to take great care when it would rest upon it as it took short breaks from the effort of digging out energon.

Smokescreen was right, it did look fat.

He watched as it repeated the steps. Dig. Eat. Rest. Dig. Eat. Rest. Then it began to dig deeper, it's optics set on a large stalk and digging around it. It would pull out pounds of rock, and then take a rest, and then begin this new process again. It was almost a half hour later when it finally go the crystal loose, roots still attached. A hefty piece of energon, enough to make his mouth water at the sight of it.

Despite his hunger, he wouldn't dare try to go for it alone. It was dragged out of the pit, and the predacon gripped it with her talons and within a few beats of its wings it had taken off to the air. It was going due west.

  
  


* * *

“The energon wasn't exposed,” Ultra Magnus stated, watching the recording for the third time, “The predacon knew where it was before out scanners could find it.”

“Do you think it could find energon without a scanner?” Raf questioned, also interested in the video, just seeing a predacon was a marvel to the young human. “Is it possible to?”

“Perhaps,” The medic paused the tape, “It's well documented that native mech-animals were capable of finding small energon deposits close to the surface, but this trait was found more in grazers than predators. If a predacon was able to have that ability, why would it need it in the first place?”

“I can't get over how fat it is.” Miko chuckled, Jack rolled his eyes and Arcee shifted her weight to lean towards the human. “How can it even fly like that? Play the last part again, it looked like it was struggling to lift itself.”

“We've seen it several times Miko... though I must be honest, the size of it is... worrisome.”

Bumblebee agreed. Smokescreen grinned wide. “Why's that Ratchet? Afraid its gonna eat up all the energon before we get to it?”

Optimus narrowed his gaze upon the young mech, and Smokescreen straightened his stance to that of a proper soldier. “What is bothering you Ratchet?”

“Dare I say it... it almost looks like its... _carrying_.” Ratchet can recall a peaceful time when carriers would come to his shop in the Dead End, most of them were unplanned, but none wanted to give up that chance of having a sparkling to call their own. He can remember their round stomach-plating ballooning, how warm their gestational chambers were as it cradled and nourished the life inside it. He compares it to the predacon, and he can't help but think it was carrying.

Miko waved her hand, “Carrying what?”

“The term 'carrying',” Bulkhead began, “is our way of saying a carrier is with a sparkling. They're frame is gestating a newspark and building the new-protoform inside of them... uh... what do humans call it...”

Raf looked over his shoulder, “He means that Ratchet thinks the predacon is pregnant.” Without skipping a beat, “Ratchet, do predacons lay eggs or give live birth?”

“During Cybertron's Golden Age, there were many archaeologists employed by many universities.” Optimus stepped forward, “We have some data and theories on predacon's but nothing is for certain. Some lay eggs, some birth live young. Perhaps it would do us good to study what information we have.”

Jack took his place beside Arcee, “Okay, Optimus, I think we need to take a second and really thing about this.” Jack paused the video where the predacon was in the center of the visual, “Lets say, for arguments sake, that the predacon _really is_.... carrying.” Jack couldn't bring himself to say 'pregnant', robots having babies was to weird for him. “If it _is_ carrying, what are we going to do then?”

“We will _bring it down_.” Magnus stated as a fact, his servos already itching for his hammer. Jack was visibly upset with this, “The predacon should have been extinguished in the mountain with the rest of those monsters.”

“That's not right!” Jack snarled, “Does it matter if its a predacon?! What if it was a Decepticon that was carrying a new-born? _Huh?!_ What then? Would you kill them to?”

“That thing is an animal! It would benefit us if we destroy the threat _before_ it becomes a threat! The predacon is _bigger_ then Predaking, no doubt it's more powerful, _carrier or not_ it must be destroyed.”

“ _No._ ” The stern voice of the Prime echoed through the chamber, blue optics flashing in ire. Smokescreen, out of habit, straightened his frame to stand at attention, and Optimus commanded everyone's full attention. “If the predacon is carrying, then we shall do everything in our power to ensure that _she_ and _her young_ remain out of this conflict. I will not allow a carrier, no matter _what_ their frame may be, in harms way under any circumstance. Do I make myself _clear?_ ”

  
  


  
  


Optimus Prime stands alone in front of the main hub, once again watching the recording of the predacon gathering energon. He can't bring himself to enter recharge, he keeps watching the recording.

Sparklings. New born Cybertronians. The very _thought_ of it made the Matrix pulse in a pleasant tune, almost like a calming song next to his spark. It didn't matter that the sparklings were that of a predacon, it meant that there was still hope that his race could flourish once more. There was _hope_.

The Matrix does not demand much from him, as he had come to find when he was chosen to become a Prime. In fact, it demands so little when he is not on the battlefield. Outside of the battlefield, it only demands that all sparks to be spared. The Matrix, though it was not sentient, 'viewed' sparks as sacred, all life was sacred. Coming to the possibility that the predacon was carrying, the Matrix demanded the protection of those new sparks.

He studied what text they still had about predacons. Most of them were believed to lay eggs, and it appeared that the Sharp Wire Lizard, the breed Predaking and this new predacon belonged to, were devoted creators. They cared for the eggs, evidence showed that they would stockpile raw energon to stay at the nest to guard them until they hatched.

The hatchlings were entirely dependent on their creators. In the first few orns, scientists believe their plating was still brittle, their armor took time to harden and the carrier will not allow them out of the nest until then. This placed the sire of the creations to go and bring energon to the nest so the young could nurse from their carrier. Their tanks to young to process raw energon, they took energon from the carrier, already filtered several times directly from her frame.

Optimus had faced Predaking, he knows how fierce a predacon can be when enraged, but knowing just how _vulnerable_ these beings were at an early stage of their development, and how _nurturing_ they were towards their young. “...how beautiful...”

“Optimus?” The mech turned on heel to look down and there stood Miko in her pajamas. An over sized shirt and cotton shorts, it was a rare occasion to see her with her hair down and slightly messy. “What are you doing up? Oh, doing some research on the mama-to-be?”

“Yes, I am... They are devoted parents. The sparklings cannot survive without their carrier...” The Autobot commander turned back to the screen, scrolling down when it began to inform about size comparisons between males and females, and stages of their life cycles. The smallest predacon fossil found was one still in its egg, almost perfectly preserved and he was brought an image of a smiling mech holding the egg. He needed two hands to hold it, but it was a long oval shape, about the length and width of his helm. The unhatched infant was curled up inside the cracked shell, its wings so small, the whole frame was just... _so small_ , Optimus believed it could have fit in the palm of his hand.

“Oh,” Miko sighed, “It's so tiny... its hard to believe it would've grown up to be an apex predator. I kind of reminds me of the T-Rex, you know?”

“... a T-Rex?”

Miko nodded, still looking at the picture of the infant. “Yeah, we believe they were devoted parents to. They actually have a lot in common now that I think about it... so what are you going to do with her? The mama-to-be?”

Optimus straightened his shoulders. “At the moment, I believe keeping our distance would be the best course of action. She may be close to laying, and I don't want to stress her out if its possible. If we can find out where the nest is located we could better watch out for their health and safety. We cannot allow them to fall victim to Megatron's control.”

“That's a good plan,” Miko agreed, “...so you think she'd let me take photos of the babies?”

“Hmm... I will ask if I get the chance to ask her.”

“...Thank you Optimus. Welp, I'm going back to bed, maybe you should head on out to. You might be a Prime but I'm sure you could use some recharge.”

  
  


* * *

_**Two weeks later** _ **...**

She covers her hoard of fuel, she can't risk predators sniffing out her only fuel source. Her plating shivers as her gestational chamber contracts for what feels like the tenth time this cycle. Warbling, her only comfort was to pace in a circle inside her nest, it was the only way to make the ever increasing pain _somewhat_ tolerable. She whines when she feels the eggs shift again, ever so slowly moving into position

She takes deep breaths, and she uses her front limbs to dig a bowl in her nest. Her eggs were coming. She groans when she feels them shift again, just now entering her valve and an odd sounds erupt from her maw. Her lower end attempts to maneuver into a squatting position but she's _not ready_ , not yet.

Her plating rattles, and she keeps making the little bowl that will soon hold her eggs. She wants to lower her pelvis towards the ground, and she nearly has to drag herself into the correct position. Panting, she begins to feel her eggs move down her channel.

Her talons dig into the sand, her tail is raised and her wings flutter as she groans loudly again at the sensation of her traveling eggs. _They're coming_ , she tells herself through the pain, she shutters her optics tightly and her hind limbs spread more and her pelvis and lowered again. Her talons knead deep into the sand.

The process is slow, and she wants to wail when the aches _truly_ begin, bit instinct tell her otherwise. They whisper of predators, egg thieves, and rogue males that would crush her young to install their own CNA into the next generation. It's a sensation of movement in her valve. She wouldn't describe it as 'painful', no, but it bordered that line for sure.

When the first egg drops, she hears it make contact in the soft sand, and the rest fallow quick. She can only pant as two more come to rest. What fallows are convulsions. Her valve pushing out the remaining fluids that had built up in her gestational chamber and its soaked into the sand.

Taking deep breaths, she slowly raises her hind quarters and takes a step away from her eggs to inspect them. They appear to be the right shape. The shells are still soft, she can just see the frames her of still developing children and _oh_ , she trills and joy, those tiny glowing sparks sparkle beautifully. They have little paws and tiny wings and stubby tails. She sings in low notes to them, brushing her muzzle against them as she begins to half bury them with warm sand.

Her middle is still bloated with excess material, but her frame will divert it to other systems for future use. For now, she lay herself close to them, vents opening wide to blow heat over them to help harden the shells and keep them warm.

She wishes she had more time to harvest more energon, she will have to be careful to make it last as long as she manage. She won't be fueling just herself any more.

It will take some time for them to hatch, two or more cycles, but she will do all that she can ensure their future and their survival.

Predaqueen lays her helm beside her eggs, her wing opening and resting over them to encase them in comforting heat and she sings to them. Gentle notes and watches their little sparks respond with small flashes of light as they hear their carrier for the first time.

_I'll be here for you when you come out to the world._

  
  


* * *

_**Thirteen Days Later...** _

Predaking finds something both old and new. He has found her scent again, this time its far sweeter than before but its near a hole in the ground that she had clearly dug herself. Her can see the marks of talons that scooped up the soil, and the slivers of energon crystals she must have been eating.

There was also the evidence that she had laid down, the outline of her frame embedded into the dirt.

He looked hard at the imprint, and it was as if his CPU had suddenly ground down to a halt. Her stomach was bulging, wide and round. His servo hovers at the edge, almost frightened as if touching it would make it all vanish. He takes deep breaths to steel himself.

“...are you... _carrying_?” He asks himself aloud, he presses the tip of his talon around the edge. “...You're carrying...”

Suddenly, his fruitless searches made sense. Why he couldn't find her, why she had hidden herself so well. She was ensuring the safety of her young. He had read all the available data on his species, from the archives and from Shockwave's research to aid him in his search for his queen.

A female with eggs, of _any_ species on Cybertron, would defend them with their lives. There are many dangers in the wilds, even more so for one so young and without means to defend themselves. Predaking has to rethink his efforts entirely. A female with young would not tolerate a male if it meant potential danger to her young.

She would more likely try to kill him.

He hasn't seen her yet, and yet, something primal inside him purrs in delight.

Then a thought runs across his processors, a terrible thought.

How would Lord Megatron react to the news of his queen baring young? In war, there is no room for younglings. Not even born and yet the danger was incredible for them. Would Megatron aid him in protecting them? Would be demand otherwise?

Would he order their destruction?

Oh, the very thought simply _terrified_ him. No, no. Predaking wouldn't, no, _could not_ allow such an event to pass. He makes a decision then and there, Predaking would keep this sacred information to himself, he would need to keep this secret as long as he can manage.

His species has a chance to survive, to thrive. What he once thought impossible, he could have a nest, a queen and _younglings._ He could be such a good mate if given the chance. He wonders how close she is to laying her eggs, _where_ was her nest? I needed to guard them now more than ever. He needed to bring her energon so she could stay with her eggs to protect their fragile shells. He wanted to watch her nurse them, to see tiny paws hit the dirt and even smaller wings spread for the first time.

Instinct is a demanding thing, and it demands all these things.

For now, he has to adjust search, he has to find the nest. He knows she's around here somewhere, the dig site wouldn't be to far from the nest, the closer she is to emergence, the closer the newest dig sites would be. She wouldn't travel far from the nest if the eggs were close to coming.

She would have gathered enough energon to last her through their short incubation period, when the shells are still soft. However, she would have buried her energon stockpile to keep other predators from sniffing it out. He would have to go back to the Nemesis, and look at the energon scanners log. It was possible that she had enough energon to cause a blip on the scanners, and he would use this to find the exact location of the nest.

And if the Nemesis could find her nest, then what was stopping the Autobots? _What was stopping the Autobots?!_

His plating rattles at the image his mind produces, him finally finding her nest, to late. The grayed corpse of his queen laying curled around a clutch of broken eggs. No, he would not allow that to happen.

He will find her, and even if she should strike him, he would protect the nest until the very end.

 

 


	2. Egg Shels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's a little short this time guys! To get more chapters out in a timely manner I've decided a minimum of 6000 words to a max of 15000 words a chapter just so it isn't weeks between postings. 
> 
> ALSO: If there's a chance anyone reading this would be willing and able to do some artwork for me, and of course I am more than willing to pay, send a PM or a review with some previous work done! Serious offers only! Please!

**Chapter Two: Egg Shells**

  
  


AND IT WAS SIXTEEN CYCLES AFTER LAYING when her eggs began to shake beneath her frame. Before they had kicked and scratched at the shells as they developed but it had stopped after a few minutes. However, this time, the scratching wasn't stopping, and she lifts herself off and curls around them tightly. The shells had hardened after two cycles, hiding away those little sparks but, oh, she could still feel them. She could always feel them.

They tremble in the sand, and she uses a single talon to gently push the sand away from them to aid them in breaking through the shells. She can do nothing else to help them.

For them to be strong, they must help themselves.

She purrs loud to let them know that she was there with them, they just have to get out and sweet fuel would be waiting for them as a reward. The first egg cracks and she has to stop herself from touching the fracture.

A paw! A tiny little paw pushes through, and its followed by the smallest set of round horns and the first of her children shrieks out to say hello to the world. His plating is dark, almost black but she can see how brightly the blue bio-lights shine and he opens his optics, a royal blue, for the first time.

As he pulls himself out of his egg chamber, the second egg shatters. Her second child had stretched out his frame to pull the egg apart in the middle, and those little limbs and that tiny tail knocks the shell away. His plating is an olive color, yellow bio-lights, and amber optics. She's warbling in delight, finally allowing herself to push her stomach plating towards them.

They begin to crawl towards her, still uncoordinated but they make quick progress to get their limbs under them.

The third egg finally cracks, and her young says hello with his hindquarters sticking out of the egg. His tail hitting what was left of the egg as his front legs broke it further. His purple optics shine for the first time as he right himself, getting his arms and legs under him. His plating is mostly dark blue in color, but she can see splashes of vibrant red along his neck and his wings.

How beautiful he will be when he grows up.

Her young chirp and chatter as they make the short journey, following the sweet scent of fuel hiding beneath her plating. She purrs, urging them closer, to nurse and soon enough, they all lay against her. Their muzzles are hidden under her plating to reach the feeding nubs and _ah, finally_ , that troublesome ache of her pouches were finally released. They had grown heavy, and she had been leaking these past few cycles and the nubs had grown sore.

It feels almost like a massage, her little ones gently knead her belly and Predaqueen lays her helm in the sand. Enjoying the first nursing of many to come. They would not be able to eat raw energon until they were larger.

She can feel their sparks pulsing against her own, and she doesn't fight as the carrier-creation bonds begin to form.

As she lay there, new thoughts begin to take form. She will have to leave soon to hunt for more energon sooner than she had thought she would.

The first few cycles are critical when young emerge from their eggs, their systems need to adjust to the outside world, and bonds form until they were old enough and capable of defending themselves against the elements and predators. A precious time to all creators, no matter the species. Small tanks fill with sweet energon, and they fall asleep as they were, still attached to her feeding nubs and pressed against her belly for warmth.

She will have to wait for a few cycles more until it was safe enough for them to leave the nest for short periods of time. With their armor hardened, their hydraulics's would have pressurized enough for them to grip plates on her back and she would be able to travel with them in the air without fear of them tumbling off.

Still, she would need to watch out for danger, her young do have ignition chambers, but they are still too young to expand them. Breathing fire and other such defense systems would not be online for at least and orn or more.

They were entirely dependent on her.

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


It was Wheeljack who had a theory, one that Optimus and Ratchet could not refute its possibility in aiding to find the location of the nest. If the predacon had been hoarding energon, then she would bring it to the nest for easy access. The energon signal would have traveled a distance, and then it would remain stationary until she had buried or hidden it away.

Where it was stationary before vanishing, would be the location of the nest. Looking to the past energon blips, there _were several such signals_ and they all vanished in the same location in the desert. The location was marked on their hubs, and only Arcee, Bumblebee and Wheeljack would be taking the dangerous task of confirming the location of the nest.

Miko whined loudly at this, wanting to take photos of the 'baby dragon'.

“Ple- _eease_?” She had begged, holding her hands together and putting on a wide smile, “I promise to be quiet! Maybe I can even help!”

“I am sorry Miko, but this mission is to dangerous for humans... However, should any Autobot find the nest they will be taking image captures. If she has lain, then we must collect information of how many sparklings there are.”

Miko paused, “Sparklings? As in plural? More than one?” Miko was trembling at the thought of _several_ baby dragons. Chubby little robotic dragons with stubby tails and tiny wings. “Oh my god,” she whispered to herself, “That's so _cute_...”

“Miko, reel it in.” Jack huffed, “I'm pretty sure that even a baby predacon can be dangerous. Raf, did you find anything else about predacon nests?”

The shortest human didn't look up from his laptop. “I did. A predacon can have between five to fifteen eggs in a single clutch, but its estimated that only one would reach to adulthood in their natural habitat. They sound more and more like dinosaurs the further I read about them.”

Ratchet began to type in coordinates, “I'm sending you three away from the nest, you're going to have to do a little traveling to find the exact location but I've already marked it on your maps. Stay out of sight, there's no telling what will happen if she sees you so close. I'd imagine she wouldn't take it very well.”

Optimus agreed. “Do not engage the predacon. We are only gathering information. If she does attack, immediately retreat and Ratchet will bridge you back to base.”

“Alright,” Arcee stood beside Bumblebee, “What if we make contact with Decepticons?”

“Then do what you must to keep the nest safe.”

  
  


In the height of the afternoon, they travel down the winding paths of the desert canyon. The nest location data reads that not only was it a mile from their current location, but it was then fifty meters _above_ said location. Should things go south, they would come back to the original ground bridge location drop off.

“So we're looking for a hole in the wall.” Wheeljack summarized, “We find the hole, we find the nest. Arcee get up on that ledge over there, it's to narrow for me and Bumblebee to drive up. Let us know when you see it, and keep out for 'con activity. Bumblebee, go and scout the area for con's.

The 'hole' was found rather quickly. Arcee commed the Autobots, sending a few photos to the base. It was carved out of the rock face, the edges showing signs it was further melted down and dug deep. From the angle, Arcee noted that she can see a raised rim, the nest, and once focusing she can see the subtle outline of the predacon. She was quick to crouch down, slowly pushing a rock to hide herself.

'Wheeljack. Bee. The Predacon is inside the nest. No visual on the younglings.'

The predacon moved her neck, bringing her helm down and suddenly, Arcee could see a smaller figure leap up and paw at her muzzle. Another small figure was climbing down the length of her back. 'Hold, two sparklings confirmed.'

'Hold your position Arcee, wait and see if there are any more in the nest.' Under Ratchets order, Arcee could hear Miko squealing about how _small and adorable_ the infant predacons were.

Another little helm popped up from the rim of the nest, little talons clawing at the edge as if it were trying to escape. The predacon was quick to grab hold if her young and deposit it behind the nest rim. 'Third youngling confirmed.'

'There's three!!' Miko wailed in her joy, Arcee could hear the collective groan from Ratchet and Ultra Magnus.

'Arcee! Predaking incoming!'

“Predaking?!” Arcee murmured harshly to herself, trying to wedge herself between two rocks to keep hidden, her position wasn't ideal to defend herself. “Scrap!”

True enough, the thunderous bellow of Predaking echoed throughout the canyon, bouncing off the walls and glancing into the entrance of the nest, the female was standing at attention. Only then did Arcee realize what kind of danger they all were in.

The female was just _massive_. And that massive female was on guard.

There was a thunderous _boom_ when some soil falling over Arcee, and tilting her helm upward, she can see Predaking had perched on the edge of the cliff, looking directly into the mouth of the cave the female had made. 'Prime. Predaking is here!'

'Retreat and regroup at the rendezvous! Do not engage!'

Predaking was bellowing out to the female, muzzle pointed at the nest. Arcee didn't have a chance to respond when a bright flash and then a wail of pain from the dark predacon. The female had attacked him. Predaking had gotten to close to the nest.

The female is snarling at the mouth of the nest, the front end of her frame in the sunlight, and her wings open to block off the view of her young. Her platting rattled loudly.

Arcee didn't think something too large could move so fast.

The female leaped from her perch, wings blocking out the sun and there was no hesitation as she barreled into Predaking. Using her weight, she pushes Predaking over the ledge and further away from the nest and in seconds they were out of sight but Arcee could hear them fighting.

'The female is _fighting_ Predaking!' Arcee shouted into the com, her fingers and peds dig into the wall and she begins to climb as fast as she could.

She peeks over the edge, and the size difference was even more clear as the female and Predaking began to have a shouting match. Her helm, lifted at its fullest height was higher than Predaking, and she easily had a few _tons_ on him. She dwarfed Predaking in length and height, he was three-quarters smaller than her.

Their mandibles were just shy of touching as they roared and hollered at each other. The female's wings were open, making her _that much bigger_ than him and she was stomping the ground. The earth splintering under her weight.

Even Predaking _knows_ he can't fight her. Not with her young so close and they could he heard wailing in fear of their missing carrier out of sight. The moment Predaking turned his helm towards the sound of her wailing sparklings, she snarled and began to rain down white-hot flames on his back and his side.

Predaking is thrown from the force, _bouncing_ on the ground as the female offers no mercy. Chasing after him with talons and spread teeth with the intent to kill. Arcee had never seen Predaking snarl and retreat so fast.

The female doesn't fly after him, keeping her wings open and she fires rapidly at his tail, one hitting its mark on his backside to keep him going further and further away from the nesting site. The female roar loud at him, before turning her frame and with a leap and a beat of her wings, lands back into her cave and she lowers her helm to comfort her panicked young.

'Arcee, can you get away from the nest?'

'I can... I think. Give me a few minutes and I'll join up. The predacon is occupied with her nest.'

And it was a shame as Arcee slowly made her way down the cliff side, stopping when the female made a loud noise, that she did not notice the small gray speck flying high overhead.

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


Knockout had his fair share of odd mechs in his medical bay, but he stood on the sideline as he watched Predaking pace the room, his processors in a loop as it appeared.

“She's magnificent!” He stated with glee, not minding the bent and warped metal of his shoulder and leg or the charred scuffs along his frame. “No hesitation! Powerful! _Beautiful!_ ”

“Oh please, do tell.” Knockout had been listening to the predacon for the most part of the half hour since he arrived, and shamelessly began to clean out the joints of his fingers. “You found the nest and then... she beat the slag out of you.”

“That was my mistake. I got to close to the nest, I didn't even think to bring a gift or an offering!”

Knockout rolled his optics, sitting on his desk and crossing his legs to get comfortable. “Oh no,” he drawled, “Whatever shall you do?”

Predaking was far to excited, _happy_ even at the notion of being beaten by the female of his species. Predacons were _so strange_.

“I shall make amends when we meet again.” Predaking stated as a fact, “I need a good sized root of energon. Unprocessed. Hopefully, she takes it without violence.”

“I would _hope_ so. Predaking, forgive me for asking but the nature of predacon's are not my forte. 'How', exactly, do Predacons court one another? I don't believe simple gifts are everything.”

“Of course not.” Predaking agreed. “I must prove myself worthy of her attention. Courting a female can be dangerous, deadly even, but it is a challenge I shall not back down from.”

So... Predacons _risked_ their very sparks to mate? No wonder they died out, Knockout thought it himself though he would not dare voice it aloud. “I must prove that I can provide and protect the nest. Bring gifts like precious stones, tear down all threats that _dare_ get close to the nest. You should have seen her... she is... beautiful...”

“She attacked you.” Knockout stated dumbly, predacon's were so _weird_ , something must be wrong in the processors, it the only thing that Knockout can say without a proper look into them.

“And it was well within her right to.” Predaking waved it off like it was nothing. Perhaps near-death experiences were, dare he say _normal_ , in courting habits. “I got too close to the nest, I did not factor how quickly her eggs hatched. Knockout, she has _younglings_.”

The predacon sat heavily on the berth, “Little ones...” he whispered to himself, “Alive and thriving and so _small_... and already in danger. I must return and protect the nest.”

Before Predaking would push himself off the berth, Knockout reached and pushed him back down.

“Not like that you aren't. Let's think for a moment. I'm going to put this bluntly, you look like you've been through a blender. Your plating is trashed and you smell like something _burnt_. Forgive me if I'm wrong but I sincerely _doubt_ that the... female would take in a mate that looks like he can't handle himself.”

This caused Predaking to pause, just about to retort when he glanced over at the damage on his shoulder. The plating was wrapped, cracked in places and, just as Knockout had said, burnt and smelled like it to. He was right, he looked like trash.

Nothing like a true _king_ should look. The female would not accept a sickly looking mate, wouldn't even think to tolerate it.

“I do think she will be fine long enough for me to fix you right up. Perhaps a polish is in order if you're seriously going to 'woo' her.”

Predaking gives it consideration but found himself helpless but to agree with the red mech. “...perhaps you are right.”

“Of course I am. So lay back and let the good doctor do his work. In the meantime, tell me more about how predacon's... court, if you'd please.”

Courting a female of the predacon species, Predaking's species, was no laughing matter, nor was it a gentle process as Knockout had come to learn. Predaking was not joking when he stated his life could, and _will_ be in danger should she decide otherwise.

A female was _picky_ about their mates, and they needed to be. Their young needed the right traits to survive the harsh environment. The male would bring gifts to calm the females ever present ire, or die. The male needed to prove himself that he could hold his own _against_ the female during the last stages of the courting process, or die.

It was a literal _do or die_ for predacon's. Even _courting_.

Had there been other males, Predaking would have needed to either kill them or drive them off to impress the female.

First, Predaking explained that gifts such as energon and precious stones (to decorate the nest he would build) was the first step of courting. Letting the female know that he was interested. He would bring the female to the nest he built and should she accept it, she would allow him to lay outside of the nest.

“Outside the nest?” Knockout repeated, “If she accepted, why not let you inside the nest?”

“It means that she accepted to be apart of the courtship rituals, but has not yet accepted me as her mate. Only mates share a nest. At this stage, I'm still proving myself.”

“Huh, how odd.”

While proving himself, he gathers energon, hunts down prey and brings it all to the nest. “Why the need to hunt prey? Isn't energon enough?”

“No it is not. We predacon's grow into our armor. I would have hunted smaller prey so that our frames would take in material and build our armor from the inside out.”

So they didn't upgrade their frames. How... _organic_. The thought made Knockout shudder. Predaking then explains that the courtship would take time, gaining the females trust and tolerance, the next phase would begin. At this stage, the courtship turns violent for a brief period.

He must prove to the female that _he_ can prove himself to _her_.

They duel and Predaking must force the female to _submit_ to him. He has to clamp his jaws around her throat and push her down to the ground and then they would be mates.

Easier said than done.

The female is larger than him, in both height and length and she outweighs him by several tons of mass. She will fight him, she would not make it easy for him. Its this reason alone why it's so dangerous for his species to take on a mate.

Should he bring her to submission, he would then have permission to enter the nest, and there would be no threat of assault from the female. It would only be a waiting game for her to enter heat, and then he and his queen would bring in the next generation of predacons into the world.

“So all of that to have a chance at younglings?” Knockout whistled, it sounded like it was more trouble than it was worth, he began to buff the predacon's armor with a polish of his own making. “Why all the trouble and violence?”

“Because she would ensure the younglings would have all the tools needed to survive. A mate with poor attributes would only hinder her creations in the future.”

“I see... did you get a chance to see them?”

“The female?”

“No, I already know of your encounter with her. I'm talking about the younglings. If there are younglings, wouldn't she already have a mate? Perhaps another predacon had survived?”

“No, Shockwave had confirmed that she was the only survivor. I believe the younglings had budded from her spark.”

“Ah, I see.” Budding was different from sparking a partner. Similar to asexual reproduction, the difference was that the next generation had 'scrambled' CNA instead of clones. The new generation, though born from the same carrier and even siblings, would not hold any familial CNA relations. Many theories revolve around budded sparks. Scientists believe this process began when their planet was still young and was the result of a mutation.

Others believe it to be a by-product when a spark has too much energy and the carrier just happens to enter an ovulation period, the excess energy would have dropped into the carrying chamber and a new-spark would have been created. Was it possible that female predacons could willingly spark themselves if they don't find a mate? Knockout rolls the idea in his helm before letting it go. Too little data and not enough time.

“Forgive my bluntness but why all the effort for sparklings? I wouldn't have thought you of all mechs would have _wanted_ to procreate.”

“I would not expect you to understand. You're often surrounded by your own kind, and for a time, I was on my own. I am a predacon, and I am surrounded by a different species. I have a... _chance_ to give my race a second chance. To _belong_ somewhere, to have someone to fly with, to nest with... I want younglings. I want to watch them grow, and thrive under the care of my mate and myself.”

“The thought of tiny Predaking's does sound adorable... What do you plan to do? The first step in the courtship I mean. I don't think your first impression went to well.”

Predaking pauses. Yes, it was the complete opposite of he wanted to introduced himself. It was almost shameful. He shouldn't have gotten so close to the nest, he hadn't brought a gift and during their short close encounter he _should_ have backed down and given the female her space.

The first impression had gone _terrible._

“I will need to earn her forgiveness first. I got too close to the nest. I didn't back down from her threats. I will need to hunt for energon. Perhaps speak with her, if she will permit it.”

“Would you make her a new nest now or later?”

“...I will make that decision based on her reaction when she sees me again.”

Knockout grins, “I see. So, my next question. The female already has younglings, does this change the 'courtship ritual' at all? I imagine you'd have to factor this into your plans to woo her.”

“Of course it does. It makes it more dangerous. Some males will kill younglings, eliminating potential threats before they become a threat and their own young would have a better chance of survival. If I was ever a threat to them, I would hope that she does kill me. Only the worst would take the life of a youngling.”

Knockout took the moment to agree with Predaking. The red mech may not 'like' sparklings (they were loud and _messy_ little things), but he was not sparkless and would not wish such things upon them. “So what's different when the female has younglings?”

“It will be harder to gain her trust and permission to court. I should acknowledge her young but not interact with them, not without her permission and remain submissive should she allow it.”

Predaking goes silent for a moment. Wondering _if_ she would have allowed it, and how it would go for the younglings. At this time, they had heard him, a matured male of their species, but they hadn't seen him. At least, he doesn't think so. Predacons that have just hatched were _blind_ the first few days, their optics online but not taking in any visual data. They would have used the sweet scent of their carrier to find her to nurse for the first time.

Would they have crawled over his frame? Investigating how big _they_ would grow someday? Would they paw at his mandibles or playfully chew his plating? Would the female stare down at him and see that he wasn't a threat?

The rest of the repair was silent as Predaking played the fantasy through his helm. It only strengthened his resolve.

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


Predaqueen had exhausted her energon reserves the day prior, and now she's trying to decide if it were wise to leave the nest. Should she bring her young? Should she hide them away?

The encounter with the male had left her shaken, not that she had fought him off but the fact that upon further inspection of the land around her nest had revealed _things_ had gotten even closer. It wasn't the organic creatures that had gotten close, but the ones of metal she had seen creeping in trees when she had taken a short time to rest in the waters of the pond.

It's more than clear that this nesting site was no longer safe, and she _needed_ to build another nest elsewhere. Somewhere higher, somewhere better hidden but she also needed to make sure that there were energon pockets close by as her brood were still nursing.

To do this, she needed to travel, and that alone put herself in danger if the male would come back or these metal beings would fallow her to the new nest.

Her broods armor had finally hardened, protecting fragile protoflesh but it stood no chance against fully grown predacons or weapons. They were still young, and had yet to begin building upon the armor to make it denser. They could walk and run just fine, but their wings were still to small and too weak to carry their weight.

Predacons right out of the egg have small wings that grow faster than their frame, but it takes time. They won't begin to grow until their weaned from their carrier and begin to eat material from hunted prey. Their ignition chamber also doesn't expand until this time, the lining to thin to hold the high pressure or handle the incredible heat her kind were infamous for.

They would die without her. The thought of them alone and scared makes her tremble.

She had no choice, she cannot leave them alone with so many predators around the nest. They will have to make the journey with her to a new nest.

Predaqueen chirps, and instantly, her young cease play-wrestling to stand in line before her. She opens her wings, and lowers her front until her chest is pressed into the sand and using her snout, she pushes her young to crawl up her leg and into her back. The next two fallow their sibling, and within a few minutes, they settle between her plating. Little talons locking around smaller sections of armor to anchor themselves and she can feel them press against her and remain still and silent.

They may be young, but they instinctively know what to do when leaving the nest with their carrier. They're in the safest part of her frame, what predators would _dare_ attack her? She can fly higher than any other, none would attack from above. Her brood are between her wings and so she can use her wings without fear of knocking them off her.

Predaqueen has no emotional attachments to the first nest, she does not keep the eggshells as they had done their job in protecting and keeping her young warm during incubation. Predacons are not stationary creatures, and very few of them stay in a single nest their whole lives.

Prey moved with the seasons, and so the predators needed to move with their food source.

Stepping out into the sunlight, she stretches out her wings and neck. Sniffing the air but found no linger scents in the area or in the currents of the wind.

Without preamble, she takes to the air and flies high. Her sensors are alive and on edge, she has to be quick to find a new nesting site. For two hours, she circles deeper into the desert, she's found a few pockets of energon that ping on her scanners. Some big, some small and some not even worth marking on her scanners.

Two and a half hours later, she comes across a deep ravine. At some point in time, it may have been a riverbed, and at the bottom, she can see evidence of such a thing. She doesn't want to nest here. There's no energon nearby.

Three hours into her search, she finds something. A sheer cliff-side that drops deep into the earth like a great jagged wound. There are many dark crevices, many places to hide and to her delight, there is a small cave system large enough for her to walk through without touching the ceilings and wide enough for her frame. She wouldn't have waste energy digging out space, she just needed to make the nest.

Checking her map, there are a few energon pockets nearby, not as close as she would have liked them to be but perhaps being too close to an energon source would bring unwanted attention to her nest. She doesn't know how the male had found her nest, they can't track energon like a female can and so she decided that she would not bring energon to her nest this time.

Landing in one of the dark corner caves, she investigates the new terrain. The rock is smooth and cold to the touch, and almost immediately, she doesn't like the way it feels under her talons. It feels... damp. There is evidence of a flash flood.

She leaves to the sky once more.

Four hours later, she still hasn't found a new nesting site and she needs to land. Her young are growing restless and they're beginning to whine. They need to nurse and she would not deny them.

Turning back to the ground, she places herself in a crevice on the ground, and she purrs to allow her brood to disembark their carrier. Leaning against the rock, and exposing her underbelly, they were quick to latch on in their hunger.

As they nurse, she takes in the land. The walls are high around them, there are energon a little further away from their current location Its ways away from the previous nest and the burning mountain, and the more she thinks about it...

The more she likes this place. The sand is soft here, almost powder-like under her talons. Its dry, she can't smell any evidence of water or see proof of flash floods. There was no evidence of paved paths of the organics, and there hadn't been a single organic creature popping up as her young nursed.

She decides to make her new nest in this place. She knows for a fact that there is no _absolutely_ safe nesting site, so she must make do with what is available.

In the height of the afternoon, she had spent the time to create the new nest. Digging deep at an angle this time, all that would have been visible to the outside was a cropping of rock and only those that were flying _might_ see it, but then again, they may think it was just the shadows of the rock. She wouldn't have to worry about her ever curious young falling to their deaths.

She doesn't decorate her nest, there were no precious stones or material that caught her optic to decorate with. She crushes and melts rock into place, forming a rim that was tall enough to keep her brood inside until they were larger and stronger. She needed to make this nest as safe as she could make it by herself.

That night, the nest was warm and her little ones are pressed against her belly, having finished their meal and recharging. Predaqueen was kept awake by her thoughts.

There is a male predacon, and he had found the nest and had loudly announced his greeting, as was customary among predacons. She does not doubt that he had been searching for her, for how long, she doesn't know.

Predaqueen has to keep alert for him, at that moment, she didn't care for courtship, she didn't care that there was another member of her species, all that mattered was he was too close, and her young was frightened. Without a second thought, she had put him in his place, and drove him away.

Now, her mind clears and allowing thoughts to flow freely, did she recollect her thoughts on the male.

She does not deny that it pleased her to see a male, his dark plating pleasant and he clearly took care of himself very well. She remembers the weight of his frame when she rushed him, he wasn't underweight, his armor didn't crack under her force and the width of his wings when he took flight.

She _might_ have been more welcoming to his approach had he announced himself further away, but he will have learned from his mistake.

Still, she plays with the thought of a mate, how much easier it would be to raise and protect her young knowing they would be protected by a strong mate.

Predaqueen would never deny her want for a mate, but she would never submit to a weak mate and endanger her children. Weak mates often meant death for the next generation, and what kind of carrier would she be to doom her children before they were even born? Obviously, she wouldn't allow it.

Still, she thinks to herself as she lowered her helm to drift into recharge, the thought of a mate was nice but her children would come first.

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


Wheeljack and Optimus return to the nest after two days of no recorded activity. The nest was large enough to hold the whole Autobot team and still have room for more, and inside was a layer of soft sand. Optimus crouches down, and pick up a thin, curved piece of what was no doubt an eggshell. It was brittle under his fingers, cracking easily when he pressed lightly to test it and it was colored a dark shade of grayed-red and speckled with black and gold dots. He thought it was beautiful to see, it glittered when he held it to the light.

“From what I can tell,” Wheeljack began, picking up what appeared to be the top half of an egg, the smooth mound a grayed-green color, “There were... two... three eggs that hatched. Confirming Arcee's visual data.”

Optimus places a silver of egg-shell into his subspace, wondering if either Ratchet could gather some data from it or perhaps to appease Miko's desire for a photograph of the young predacons. The nest was abandoned, no doubt the female wanted to keep her young safe and hidden away from Predaking or any other Decepticon.

“...” Optimus turns his gaze towards the rim of the nest, he can see little claw marks and even the prints of the sparklings. So small. “They are active, look and you can see their footprints.”

He held a hand next to the print, just a little bigger than the tip of his finger and the way the tracks were around the whole of the nest, they stumbled and often bumped into their nest-mates.

“Yeah, I'd imagine they'd be born travel-sized.”

Optimus returned to stand upright, stepping over to where the female had spent most of her time laying on her side. The imprint was all that was left of her. If Optimus curled up tight, he could have fit in the shape of her belly in the sand.

Though he had seen the images of the predacon, seeing the size of it was different. There were no exaggerations about its size.

Again, the beauty of a nursing carrier, of a species he had only known violence from, had caught his breath.

“So she attacked Predaking because he got too close to the nest, meaning she wouldn't hesitate to attack one of us or a human for the same reason.” Wheeljack stepped out the nest, making his way to the entrance of the cave. “Prime, I've got some good news. It just so happens... that I may have attached a tracker on the predacon.”

Optimus looks sternly at the shorter Autobot, silently asking him to explain.

“I took the chance of throwing a magnetized tracking beacon the second she attacked Predaking. I don't think she noticed it. It was a lucky shot, stuck right on her aft-end.”

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


Starscream is pacing in front of Megatron as he sat in his thrown, seeing the predacon fight and throw Predaking as if he were a mere _toy_ had made Starscream rethink his plans of silently killing the second predacon and make his escape. It was just massive, its power grand and foreboding and its weaponry was more effective than Predaking's.

His wings flutter in his ire, another _beast_ to deal with.

What was Predaking thinking? Looking for that _thing_ and announcing himself like that? Sure, he was an animal, but even simple animals have a sense of self-preservation. '

“Predaking,” Starscream sneered, “Found our wayward beast and was pitifully beaten. My Lord, if it cannot be tamed, then perhaps it would do good for the cause to... put it down.”

Megatron tapped the arm of his chair, his chin resting on the knuckles of his other servo, giving thought to the recording Starscream had gotten. An aerial view and he can clearly see which was Predaking by the dark plating. The female had mostly white plating, and again, Megatron could see the size difference between the two.

Shockwave had informed him that the females were larger, but Megatron had imagined they only _appeared_ larger without actually being bigger.

He had thought wrong.

Very wrong.

He replays the part where the female rushes Predaking, how much wider her wings were compared to Predaking to lift her massive frame.

“She is certainly powerful. Autobots can barely handle Predaking, I have no doubts _she_ would spell their end if they were ever to meet. Such power would aid us, we should endeavor to bring her where she belongs.”

Starscream sneered, “You mean to tame the wild beast? My Lord, if I may be so _bold_ , I'd imagine she'd sooner attempt to tear you apart.”

Megatron revealed a set of sharp denta, standing to face the front of the ship where clouds parted the path ahead.

“Which is why _animals_ need to be put in their place. If I am to control this... Predaqueen, than I shall have to force her into submission. Soundwave.”

The lithe mech steps out from the control panel, as silent as ever. “Find Predaqueen... keep a _close_ optic on Predaking while you're at it.”

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


Predaqueen leaves her young for the first time to go hunt for energon. If she doesn't keep her levels above sixty-percent, she won't be able to make the fuel for her children within her frame. She presses them into the sand, to lay flat on their bellies and curled up tied around each other. They whimper, it would be the first time they were separated from her for so long.

It hurts to leave them so soon, but her levels are currently at fifty-two and dropping. She _has_ to leave or they may starve. It's to early for them to begin weaning right now.

They paw at her muzzle and then go still.

They can't draw attention to themselves, and they know it.

Without her, they're just a meal on legs.

Predaqueen doesn't glance back as she takes flight to the sky, heading towards one of the many energon deposits she had logged on her map.

Shes has to hunt.

 


	3. Of Kings And Queens

**Chapter 3: Of Kings and Queens**

  
  


Predaqueen is forced to dig deep at this deposit, there is another deposit closer to the surface but she doesn't want to take the hour flight to that location. Separation anxiety is setting in and it's making her on edge. Her plating feels tight, and so far she's only found enough energon to bring her levels close to sixty, but she's not there yet.

Pulling another chunk of rock from the earth, she uses her weight to press and break it apart. Revealing the glistening purple crystals inside. It's a small cluster, each one barely the length of her talon but she'll take everything she can get. She has to.

Using her mandibles, she scrapes away the dirt and clutching with her teeth she rips it from the rock and it slides down her throat whole. She has to be quick.

  
  


Bumblebee scales cover the cliff, Bulkhead holding the line as he lowered the yellow mech closer to the entrance of the new nest. Arcee was already at the entryway, and Optimus had taken the first step inside the cavern.

“Ratchet... Are you receiving a clear image?”

' _Yes Prime. The picture is clear. Predaqueen is stationary, no chance in her position. I will alert you immediately when she's returning to the nest.'_

“Thank you Ratchet.” Optimus glances over his shoulder, just as Bumblebee finally has his peds on the ground, “We're entering the nest now.”

' _Get me some pictures of the babies!!'_ Miko had shouted into the microphone, Ratchet and Jack were together in their attempts to calm the excited young woman, ' _Baby Dragons!'_ The young human cheered.

Optimus enters what he believes is the main chamber, there was a similar structure created from melted rock and a thick layer of sand.

“So this is the nest? It's huge.” Arcee kept her voice quiet, spotting the lumpy curled figures of the sparklings recharging in the center of the nest. They had partially buried themselves, little claws clenched and opened as their helms rubbed against another frame of their sibling. The size of the nest didn't make sense to hold something so small. Why did it need to be so big? Predaqueen was massive, but still, the nest was even larger.

“Maybe its so the sparklings can move around? There are tracks in the sand, Predaqueen lays over there and they play with her watching. I don't think she'd let them out of the nest yet.”

' _Correct Arcee. It looks like their armor has hardened, but they wouldn't be able to survive much damage done to them at this stage. Refrain from touching or waking them. Can you get a little closer? Get a scan if you can.'_

“They're to close together, are you sure you want me to scan them?”

_'Affirmative Arcee.'_

Arcee slides a hand-held scanner from her subspace, Optimus moves closer to the side, keeping away from the sparklings as the femme crept closer to the huddled bunch. Over the com-link, Miko is squealing with glee at the image of the sleeping sparklings.

Arcee scans them several times from different angles, and Ratchet informs her that there is no change in where their carrier is at the moment.

“Scans sent. You should be getting them now Ratchet.”

' _Yes, I'm getting them. Optimus, get a scan of the cave. Does it go deeper?'_

Optimus looks around, turning his helm upwards towards the high ceilings and further out of the nest and the light of his head-lights mounted on his chest finds only a wall a few meters behind the rim of the ring. “The cave goes no further Ratchet-”

Three pairs of little optics are looking up at the tall mech. “...scrap.”

Little jaws begin to wail as they spring to their feet, Arcee already out of the nest and Optimus stands frozen where he stood. They stand together, shoulder to shoulder as they holler loudly and beat their little paws against the ground.

' _You woke them up?!'_

The infant predacons were wailing, high pitched and flapping wings that looked to small for their frames. Again, Miko was loudly screaming how cute it was when they tried to be threatening. Optimus watches them curiously, crouching down to rest on one knee to look closer at them. He slowly reaches out one hand, and gives a silent signal for the Autobots to remain where they were.

The bravest of the three, royal blue armor, and lunged forward and snarls when he uses his teeth and claws to bite down as hard as he could onto the offending servo. Arcee inhales sharply, but there was no change in Optimus's expression. The sparkling chomps down again and again, but he doesn't have the strength to chip away the first dermal layer. Barely a scratch.

At this age, they were harmless.

The predacon continue its attempts to defend the nest, and within moments, his brothers had joined in. Optimus allows it, they weren't hurting him and he _was_ the intruder. Tiny paws bat at his offered servo and fingers, a green sparkling began to growl and tug with all his might. A dark blue brother was attempting to climb up his arm but he couldn't get a grip with still blunted talons.

They chatter loudly, and Optimus huffs in amusement.

They were _play fighting_ with him. Perhaps they thought they were being brave (and they were) and that they would defend themselves without their carrier hovering over them.

Optimus remains where he was, fluttering his fingers to entice the younglings into another bout of chewing and batting at him. He wouldn't lie, he was enjoying himself. Watching the younglings bite down and _try_ to appear threatening by puffing out their fragile armor and look more aggressive was amusing.

Through the com-link, Optimus can hear Miko begging Ratchet to open a ground bridge and Ratchet states that he was almost tempted, if not for the threat that, even so young, the infant predacons could still seriously maim a human if they didn't outright kill them.

“ _Optimus, since they're awake, get a scan of them individually and leave as soon as you can. Bumblebee, set up the monitoring system somewhere hidden- Miko! Quiet down!-But the BABIES!-”_

  
  


Predaqueen gobbles down another silver of energon roots, digging deeper, she only finds the bases of the roots and she can eat no more. She has to bury the bases or energon won't grow back again. Looking at her levels, she's only at sixty-two-percent. Its enough to get her system to filter out fuel, but the trip out won't be worth it until she can get around eighty-percent. She would be able to nurse her brood for a few cycles before going out again.

She weighs the cons and pros, and decides it would be worth another venture further outward to gather the fuel. She would be better prepared to defend herself if she can get as much fuel as she can, better chances of survival for her children.

She accesses her map again, there's a larger deposit a half hours flight to the west and she doesn't hesitate to take a step and a leap into the air.

  
  


  
  


Predaqueen had made a miscalculation in the distance, or, at least she thought she had. Her sensors had picked up a large energon source, but it wasn't one underground. She circles the source, or to be more correct, she circled the being at the source.

It was the _male_ again.

He roars out in greeting, _prancing_ side to side around the large energon crystal he had clearly dropped in the middle of the desert. A greeting, and an offering.

She descends, and once she's within range, she's pleased to see that he backs away quickly. Landing with a boom, she growls low in her chest, opening her wings as an open threat. The male submits, lowering his frame to the ground and moving backwards.

She's bigger than him. Her fire burns hotter. She's _stronger_ than him. He's barely a threat, but she won't take him lightly however. She approaches with caution, and for every step she takes forward, he takes one back.

Upon reaching the energon, she lays a large paw on it, pressing it into the ground and scratching it with her talons. It's dense, the lightest touch barely scratches the surface, and it's about the length of her long head and heavy when she pulls it towards herself.

Predaqueen growled, but paused when he did something she does not know males to do. He laid down on his belly, folded his wings tight, and raised his helm to bare his throat.

This was a position of _total_ submission. If she were to suddenly decide to tear into him, she doubts he would have time to properly defend himself.

Quieting herself, she decides to ignore the male for the time being, and turns her gaze upon the _gift_.

  
  


Predaking cannot take his optics off her for several reasons. The first, and most important reason was they she could suddenly go for his throat and kill him. So he keeps a relatively safe distance as she consumes the energon he had brought her. If he relaxes to much, he risks offending her. He cannot let down his guard, in a way, he is acknowledging that she is stronger than himself and he's showing her that he knows this.

On a one on one fight, and if she _truly_ desired him dead, she would make it happen.

The second reason was that she was beautiful in his optics. Her mid-section was still slightly bloated, no doubt her gestational chambers still held the fluids that nurtured her eggs while they were still inside her. Her colors were bright, healthy and shining in the sunlight.

She's eating the energon, only making quick glances at him before returning to her task. Perhaps, next time, he would bring her material, perhaps there were some unused sheets of metal he could bring to her to feast upon. Or perhaps she would like raw iron ore?

She lifts her helm to slide a shard down her throat, and he admires the length of her neck as she does so.

He uses his limbs to slide further away from the female, and she's instantly alert of his movements. Her plating rises, she's growling as she grips what was left of the energon he had given her. He remains low to the ground, keeping his wings tight against his hide and once he feels that he's at a safe distance, he lays himself on the ground.

And watches as she returns to the meal he had gifted her.

He toyed with the thought of _speaking_ with her, but that would require him to transform, and that alone could either offend her or she would kill him in a moment of vulnerability. A female would not hesitate to take out something that is a threat, no matter the species, even their own.

The only true defense he had against her was his speed and denser armor. True, she was larger than him, but her armor wasn't as thick and her size made her slower. He also had battle experience on his side, perhaps if he needed to defend himself, he could overpower her with the knowledge he had gained in battles past.

He would not transform, not yet. She's still to wary of him, and he must still gain forgiveness for disrupting her nest and causing her young to panic.

He makes himself content to inhale her scent that wafted with the light breeze. How warm, how 'welcoming' it was. He can smell the fuel she would give to her sparklings, that sweet low-grade that he could not find aboard the Nemesis nor could the drones produce for him to sample. He had tried something that smelled almost like it, a treat made among the faceless Decepticon's and a personal favorite of Knockout's. The red mech had given him a cube when he described what the sparkling fuel smelled like.

The taste was smooth, almost creamy in texture and was served to him warm. _Comfort fuel_ , Knockout had said.

Perhaps that was what sparkling fuel tasted like, Predaking muses, but admits to himself that he would not part-take in a younglings only fuel source.

He takes stock in her frame as she begins to finish off the crystal. He would often overhear drones talk of femmes on Cybertron before the war. Lovely beings that came in all shapes and sizes. Some mechs were attracted to those with wings, their frames lithe and dazzling. Others were attracted to Praxians or Datsuns and often admired their chassis.

A small number would comment that they liked frames larger than their own, _more to love_ they would say when met with confusion or laughter. These mechs Predaking could relate to. A small femme or mech just seemed... worthless to him as a mate. Easily crushed, armor to thin, and _barely_ able to defend themselves if not properly trained. No. Using the words from this mech, _I like the big bots._

Predaking had spoken with this mech.

_Most bot's think it's a fetish, and for some, it is. But I've always been attracted to a bot that had a heavier build. I've dated a few miners on Cybertron, I had some great nights with war-builds and I can honestly say that they're the best lovers I've ever had the honor to be with. When you get to know them personally, you notice how gentle they are with others that are smaller. Most of the time they have great jokes about themselves and they're more than okay to laugh at themselves.  
They're okay with their frames. I guess over time they learned to love themselves as they are and it's that confidence that I love._

_Plus, being completely honest Predaking, interfacing with them is amazing, more to touch and kiss._

Predaking had asked him if he would take one as a mate. The drone stated that he would in a spark-beat.

They had spoke together at length, this mech had answered every question Predaking had with a brand of honesty that was rarely seen among the higher ranked officers that the predacon normally conversed with. This mech was open about his adoration of the larger frame types. Predaking knew he was asking odd questions, but once he started he couldn't hold himself back.

In root-mode, he has no doubts that Predaking would likely be taller than him, her limbs would be thicker and he can't help but fantasize what she would look like beside him in a warm and protected nest. The curve of her hips and the thickness of her thighs. Should he cup her aft, it would be more than he could hold in her servos and the thought was _beautiful_.

Predaqueen gulps down the last of the energon, raising her helm to aid the fuel flowing down her throat and into her tanks.

Predaking is instantly aware of this development. There's nothing standing between himself and her now. Those red optics watch him for a few moments, and he keeps himself as still as stone when she begins to approach him. He doesn't move, more so in fear of being maimed.

When she stopped, he was laying in her shadow.

Her muzzle slowly lowered, those jaws just shy of brushing against his polished horns and she started to take in his scent. Does he dare to do the same?

He braces for impact, deep in his chest he starts a deep purring to show his gratitude. Predaqueen pauses, but doesn't act to harm him. A good sign, he thinks with caution.

Predaqueen huffs, her wings fluttering as she finishes her scenting and her inspection of his horns and helm. He takes the chance to scent her as well. Inhaling deeply and registering her natural scent that made his processors reeling.

Without a goodbye, she takes a leap into the air and opens her wings. Being so close to her, he had felt the power in her frame, how fluid her movement was and the sudden shift in the air as she departed from him, returning to her new nest and younglings.

Predaking stays where he is, remaining on his belly.

The first gift was a success! She had accepted it and didn't maim him, even took in his scent. For a standard mech, such a thing would have appeared cold and even harsh on the outside looking in. However, for a predacon, it was more of a form a greeting and acknowledgment. The scenting process is short, registering the scent of another predacon, was an unspoken message that they were worth a short measure of time. A silent promise of future meetings.

Predaking begins to plan his next move. He would return to this location, perhaps it was _close_ to the nest, maybe a few hours flight away but he would be within range of her sensors. He would bring more energon of course, but now he has to think of what else he should bring to appease her.

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


_Optimus, wrap it up. Scanners indicate that Predaqueen is returning to the nest. Hopefully the solvent is able to hide your scents. Last thing we need is to lose the females location again._

Bumblebee was sitting with the sparklings crawling around his lap, exploring the new and brightly colored beings in the nest. He was taking as many image captures as he could. Mostly for Ratchet so he could begin research on predacons, but also for Miko.

The sparklings tumbled in his lap, batting at each other after loosing interest in Optimus. Arcee hadn't entered the nest at all.

It was worth to note that it appeared that the sparklings were to young to use their ignition chambers, they hadn't attempted to scorch Optimus or Bumblebee. Scans sent to Ratchet had confirmed it. Their frames were still to fragile to handle the intense heat.

“Everything's in place Optimus,” Arcee stated, motioning towards the hidden surveillance system, “Ratchet, how far out is she?”

_She still has a ways to go, but she'll be there within the hour. Be sure to cover any tracks me in or around the nest. I'll have the ground bridge ready when you reach the rendezvous._

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


Predaqueen lifts her frame through the entrance of the cave, and she's delighted to see her young wrestling in the nest. They pounce and tumble on each other, little wings opening as they shouted and hollered at each other and snapping those little jaws. She purred as she made her way over the ring that kept them inside.

She was properly greeted as her young jumped and patted her muzzle. Rubbing their helms against her own as they took in the scent of their carrier. They purr and chirp and warble and flutter their wings. Curling against the rim, Predaqueen shifts to lay on her side, stretching out her limbs and resting her helm against the soft warm sand. Offering her stomach to them.

Almost instantly, they find the feeding nubs under her plating, and press against her for warmth.

Her levels were close to ninety-seven percent when she had left the male, and she was still above ninety percent and so she would not need to leave the nest for a few cycles more. She relaxes, shuttering her optics and releasing a pleased sigh as her young nurse and press against her. They knead the plating and settle down.

Her sensors still active, she allows herself to fall into a light recharge.

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


The cameras hadn't been found, and Wheeljack noted that the predacon showed no signs of distress that Optimus and his team had been inside the nest. The carrier was laying on her side, belly facing out with her young nursing. They can hear her purring, they could hear the younglings suckling and making small noises during their meal.

Once again, Optimus is entranced by the level of gentleness that such a massive creature could show. How _small_ those sparklings were, barely the length of her helm when they had pressed against her in greetings and how docile Predaqueen was as she allowed her young as they batted her snout or how they would climb and jump off her like their own personal jungle-gym.

“They're so cute!” Miko gushed, going through the photos on her phone from the nest, “How big were they Bee?”

“A little taller than you, but still small enough to fit in my hand. Playful little things.”

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for such a long wait but please be patient with me! Black Friday is upon me and guess who works in retail! This girl! So this chapter is a little short but I don't think I will have much time over the next few days to post much of anything. 
> 
> So I went out on a limb in this chapter, I'm trying to get the ball rolling with the main plot and I haven't decided at what point in time its safe for the younglings to venture outside the nest with their carrier. Maybe next chapter? Maybe not. Haven't decided yet. 
> 
> Am I the only one who thinks Predaking would be into heavier frames? I don't know but there's just something about it that just seems more natural to time. 
> 
> ALSO: I read a comment about Predaqueen sitting on someone and that very thought made me giggle. Will def work it in somehow. 
> 
> WANTED: ARTIST WILLING TO PUT UP WITH A COMMISSION REQUEST FROM YOURS TRULY! MORE THAN WILLING TO PAY $$$ FOR YOUR TIME. SUBMIT A COMMENT IF YOU ARE WILLING I READ THEM ALL!


	4. Life

**Chapter 4: Life**

  


For four days Predaqueen had not left the nest, moving to either nurse her young or to sift through the sands to remove rocks and debris she had not wanted. Ratchet had noted that it was odd to see the predacon snack on raw minerals towards the back of the cave where the rock was a deeper color, almost gray-black and melting it before swallowing. It didn't appear to harm her in the slightest, nor did it alter the taste of the sparkling fuel she provided judging how the younglings showed no differences in behavior during feedings.

The younglings have become more active in the last two days. Leaping with their small wings and flapping them uselessly as they mock charged one another. They leap off their carrier, opening their wings in their attempts to fly, and Predaqueen doesn't try to stop them. Perhaps this was just another stage in their development.

On the fifth day, Predaqueen finally rises from the nest, but this time, she lowers her shoulders and growls sweetly to her brood. Instantly, her little ones clamber aboard her shoulder, and curl up half-way hidden underneath the plating between her wings on her back. “Where is she going?” Smokescreen asked, leaning on the controls as if it could make him see better. “She's not going to find another nest right?”

“I doubt that,” Wheeljack answers, watching the screen. “Maybe she just wants to stretch her wings?”

“Then why would she bring the younglings?”

“Maybe she wants to them to get some fresh air,” Miko stated around a sweet bean bun, her mother had sent her the recipe from Japan and she couldn't help herself and made to many. Jack and Raf also had one in their hands. “Being cooped up for to long is unhealthy, I'm sure mama-dragon would agree.”

  


Predaqueen leaves the safety of the nest with her young, it was time for them to learn the outside world around them and the only true way to do this was to immerse them within it. She cannot teach them to survive with words, but with action and first-hand experience. She fly's towards the west, heading to a site of energon just under the surface. Something small, to small for her to put forth the effort of digging it up. It would cost more energy than it was worth.

But it was perfect practice for her young to learn to hunt for themselves.

She knows that they are all male, they do not have the same senses as she does, but that did not mean they cannot find energon, they just cannot find it when it is so deep as she can.

She lands softly, not to jostle her young and growl at them to disembark. They obey, and stand in line together, eager to learn from her. They are only feet from the energon. She lowers her helm, taking deep, exaggerated inhales and they copy her. They keep their helms low to the ground, and she pauses where the scent is strongest.

They crawl around the scent of energon, it smells like their fuel from their carrier, but at the same time, it is different and its interesting to them. What was it? Where was it?

When they begin to search for it on their own, she encourages them as they start to scratch at the ground. Using those little claws, they dig.

Her wings flutter when they finally succeed in unearthing the small roots, and they pat and paw at it. Knowing it is energon, and when they bite at it, they learn that it is hard and their jaws cannot break it. Predaqueen hums when they finally lose interest in what would one day become future meals, and takes advantage. She swallows the energon whole, chewing as her young watched her take fuel for herself. Most of it goes to her main tanks, while a portion is directed to be further purified for sparkling fuel.

She beckons her little ones to fallow her on foot. Moving after being inert felt good, and being outside would get her young accustomed to the world under her protection. They stick close to her, her youngest kept under her frame, walking between her front legs as his brothers trot and inspect everything around them.

They travel towards a section of land littered with large rocks. Predaqueen has her optic on one rock in particular. She barks, and her young stand at attention. Hefting her upper frame up, she begins to rake her talons upon the rock, sharpening her claws.

The young chirp, and copy her at a lower level. When she sharpens her horns, rubbing her helm against the same rock, they do the same, if a little clumsy but they're trying their best with their still dull horns.

They continue on with their journey on the ground. They keep pace with her, and another hour passed before she stopped and exposes her belly to them to fuel. They take it with gusto and she remains on her belly after they had finished. They all stay within her sight, and they explore all that they can about the world around them.

Biting rocks. Chasing a small organic creature with large ears. She makes herself comfortable once more, relaxing her wings and crossing one paw over the other as she keeps watch for dangers.

The sunlight warmed her plating, the air was still and calm and the gentle breeze carried only the scent of the dry soil.

They have to get to know the world, one day, the necessity of a nest would be obsolete and they would become nomadic, never staying in one place for to long. They were meant for long travels, going where the fuel had grown large and plentiful and giving the old location a chance to recuperate. However, they would only begin traveling then their wings had become strong enough to carry their frames.

Carrying them on her back is always an option, but she cannot defend herself, they can't hold on if she were to need to travel fast and hit something hard. Death from falling from the sky was a shameful way to die.

She huffs, watching as her young play fight, instinctively training for the future. Their little paws kick up dirt and dust, little jaws nip at each other as they chase another tail and squeal as if threatening one another. It's good to see them move around freely, she thinks to herself.

Play fighting is instinctive. Preparation for true battles that they would no doubt endure further into the future. Their jaws are not yet strong enough to really damage each other, and their talons and horns are still blunt.

Predaqueen looks over their wings. They're still developing, still to small and weak to carry their frames. When her pups are weaned off nursing from her directly, they would begin to ingest raw material, and their wings would then go through an uncomfortable phase of several growth spurts and then their frames would have to play catch-up.

Until then, they would be anchored to the land, and Predaqueen is thankful for that. She doesn't want to think about them flying on their own just yet. The thought of it makes her plating puff out.

  


Over the next six days, Ratchet and Wheeljack watch over the blip on the monitor that was the tracking system on the thick hide of Predaqueen. The cameras in her den confirm that she takes her children from the nest every day on her back and land somewhere within a two-hundred mile radius of the nest. Only twice during those six days, did she not return to the same location.

On the fourth day, Bumblebee and Wheeljack had been sent out to scout the favored location of the predacon. What made it so interesting to make Predaqueen return again and again with her young?

Mineral samples and image captures explained it all. The site was far away from human interference, rarely traveled even by domestic air-craft and lower in air pollution. It was peaceful. The area was relatively private, almost hidden by natural rock formations filled with crevices and hiding places, should something dare to get to close, her young could hide while Predaqueen defends her family.

Going over the mineral samples show small traces of raw energon. Nothing worth trying to mine, as the energy required to take it would outweigh the energy that would be returned, had Ratchet and Wheeljack scratching their helms in how and why such a thing mattered to the adult predacon. Even she knew that such small energon roots were worthless.

So, on the fifth night, Bumblebee had set up a remote camera where the most activity had been reported from the amount of tracks and holes the younglings had left behind.

The next day, they watch as Predaqueen teach her young how to _locate and extract_ raw energon.

Both mechs, Ratchet and Wheeljack, are pacing in opposite directions as they began to debate on how such a thing, without specialized scanners and tools, was possible. Optimus and Jack watch from the sidelines, often glances towards the screen as the blue predacon-youngling finds yet another lavender shard to show his carrier his success.

“Perhaps there's something built-in.” Wheeljack thinks out loud, “Maybe a primitive scanner? There's never been a complete skeleton found so we don't know much about how their processor are formed or functionality.”

“But _what_ exactly helps them? Even the most advanced scanners can't penetrate so deep under the surface to find energon.”

“Maybe it uses a sonar system?”

“No, no, sonar can't pick up energon underground in any shape or form... unless the sonar doesn't function in the traditional sense...”

Jack honestly stopped listening when the two began to debate using words with more than four syllables and ever sentence was more than twenty seconds long. He stood with Optimus, enjoying the show of predacons practicing their hunting skills like it was a nature documentary without narration.

“...can you tell me why Ratchet and Wheeljack are in science mode? What's so special about finding raw energon? I get that it can be tricky, but it can be done.”

Optimus glances down at the young human. “Raw energon is found in a crystal form, super-condensed fuel created over millions of years of pressure and heat. Once processed, the energy out-put is more than enough to fuel our frames and our sparks. However, raw energon is found deep underground, and often far to deep to catch on any radar that isn't intentionally designed to pick up the slight wave-lengths that the material gives off. It's often mistaken for radio waves that occur naturally from the planet. To put it simply, it can be tricky to locate, other materials can give off a signal that is almost identical.”

“So if primitive cybertronian life could find energon, why can't you guys?”

“Over time, it is believed that primitive mechs found energon that was exposed and close to the surface. Energon roots begin deep underground, but grow towards the surface like a tree. When an exposed root was found, all we had to do was dig deep. I don't believe we ever had the ability to find it like a predacon.”

It was an odd train of thought as Jack tried to fallow in a way he could understand. He doesn't completely understand how _robots_ could _evolve_.

“How exactly does that work? Evolution for Cybertronians?” Jack shifted his weight, “I thought you guys upgraded your frames.”

“It is believed that primitive life on my planet 'grew' into new armor. Over their lifetime, they would ingest raw material native to the planet, and their frames would process this material and slowly increase its mass. Armor would become denser over time, new layers building underneath the old armor, and when the new armor was ready, the old armor was shed. While the new armor is still soft, the frame would expand and grow. I believe some insects on earth use this method to grow larger.”

Jack could understand that. “I guess that makes sense, there wouldn't have been medics during those days.”

“Indeed. This system of taking in raw material also doubles as a self-repair, but we have only theories of how effective it was but it is widely accepted that the self repair during this time was far better than a modern mechs self repair.”

It almost sounded _organic_ in the way that they grew, Jack thought to himself.

Miko bounced on the couch as she turned to face the tall Autobot, “So Optimus, any plans to make friends with Predaqueen yet?”

Everyone knew she just wanted to see the younglings.

“Not at this present time.” The Prime admitted, “The danger of getting to close to the younglings while she is present is to high. I cannot risk the lives of my teammates while Predaqueen is so protective of the sparklings. We will continue to monitor them from afar until further notice.”

“Can I come with you when you visit the babies again?”

“Unfortunately you cannot.”

“What about getting more pictures for me then?”

“Ratchet is currently creating smaller, more complex trackers that will be placed on the younglings. We'll be able to monitor their location, and their growth rate from the main computer. He and Wheeljack have partnered up to possibly give us more visual feed when they leave the nest.”

Miko grinned wide, already thinking about all the different wallpapers she could switch out with _baby robot dragons_. “That would be great!” She states excitedly, “It'll be like watching a live-stream of animal planet!”

  


* * *

  


Predaqueen travels today on foot rather than in the air. Her young prance around her feet as, once again, she teaches them to survive. She's already fueled, her levels reading almost ninety-five percent, but they're not looking for energon roots today.

Her young must know the scent of material they need to grow properly. They're still a long way from eating it, their teeth still to soft to dent any sort of ore but knowing the scent will one day save them. Predaqueen keeps her senses trained on the familiar scent of iron and steel, there's something out here and she needs it herself.

The scent is getting stronger, it's not moving. An easy meal.

A few miles later, she finally comes across the source of the scent. She had seen these things before, the small organic creatures ride inside them but this one is covered in sweet rust and left broken and ripe for the taking. The wheels are gone, and its interior was rotted and so much easier to scrap out.

As she devours the steel, ripping it into smaller, manageable pieces. Her ignition chamber expands, taking in air to stoke the fire as as the steel reaches her throat, it's heated so her mandibles can bend it smaller to safely travel down her throat and into her secondary tank. Her frame would process this material as it would energon crystals. Super-heating what was taken in and pushing it through several filters before it would enter specialized lines throughout her frame to be properly distributed.

Any damage to her frame would be repaired first, and only a small portion would travel to her feeding lines to which her young would ingest. Their frames are still to young to properly process raw iron or steel, and would have to be slowly introduced to allow systems to integrate and get to know the quality of the material given to them.

She's only a quarter of the way through her meal when something else picks up on her scanner. She growls deep as she lifts her helm, her children scuttle to take cover under her frame.

There's nothing on the ground, her scanners are pinging from in the air. She tilts her helm up, and her optics are quick to catch sight of what was setting off her scanners.

They're mostly black in color, silver here and there but they all wear the same purple shape on their wings. They're rather small, almost slender, and had her young not been present, she would have ignored them entirely.

Her wings lift from her back, and she lowers her stances as she bares her teeth and her ignition chamber and active and ready for combat. Talons kneed the dirt, and she's processing the disturbances in the air currents with her wings.

The thin membrane was riddled with sensors, their main function is to keep her frame level and make constant, unconscious, adjustments during flight. However, they're strong enough to detect changes in air pressure, the ever so slight vibrations carried in the air caused by the wings of others or these creatures that fly with stiff wings.

Predaqueen can't help but think of them as _lesser things_ , what was the point of having wings if you could not use them to their full potential? How could one survive without mobility? These creatures were rather disgusting.

Instinct and thought go to war.

Instinct states that these _things_ were prey. _Fresh material_. How delightful it sounded to her.

Thought states that these _things_ were predators. Her young were here and not in the safety of the nest, she must defend them. The things make a wide circle above her, she knows they're planning to attack.

Predaqueen bellows out a warning, the fire glowing in her maw as her wings stretch out and shake in a threatening display. If she can avoid a fight with her young under her, she will take the chance.

The things circle back, this time performing a steep dive and her sensors pick up the sharp hum of weapon systems priming.

Her armor bristles, and she barks for her young to stick close under her as she trots towards a section of the small canyon where there were so many places for them to hide. She cannot defend herself and them in such close quarters.

Her children scream as the things take shots, they don't hurt her, they deflect off her armor like oil on water, but a single shot could kill one of her brood. She takes every hit with grace and tolerance.

She finds a small tunnel in the rocks and her children bolt for it.

The younglings of predacons, no matter their species, instinctively know what to do when danger approaches. A fight-or-flight situation clicks in their processors.

A predacon nest is doused in the thick musk of the parents, a first line of defense to ward off predators and egg-thieves. The scent of a perfectly healthy adult is far more frightening then that of an infant. However, there are predators that use this as a beacon, to rid future competition or threats _before_ it could grow up to be the dominate predator. A youngling in the nest is hardwired to stand their ground, to press together to appear as one single being and call out for their parents. Their play-fighting could possibly aid them in defending themselves until their parent arrived.

A youngling outside the nest is vulnerable, and they know this. They need to hide, and be still until its safe again.

They dart into the dark hole, just as Predaqueen feels another short rain of fire upon her back. As the last little tail vanishes into the shadows, she turns her frame to face off against the things in the sky.

A single beat of her wings and she's in the air, and all sensors and a majority of her processing power is now geared towards the hunt. The things scatter but they don't escape her sensors.

They make wide circles, they're unable to turn tight or flex their frames as she can, but they have the advantage of speed on their side.

She locks on the thing with blue stripes, it seems to be the slowest of them all. She flies higher and higher, until her plating is pressing against her protoflesh and she folds her wings tight against her frame. Predaqueen nose-dives, her folded wings make slight adjustments to keep on target.

How funny, she thinks to herself, they're attacking directly?

It's a flurry of movement. The drones come, firing uselessly at her. Her wings snap open and she angles her frame to swipe at them with her talons and one of them is knocked from the sky with a sharp twist with her tail.

And in another moment, they were fleeing, leaving the fallen where it lay on the ground in a smoldering wreck. Predaqueen roars out to them, and descending to claim her prize. It had transformed just before it hit the earth, one arm entirely gone, wings ragged and torn and one leg is barely hanging on by its knee.

Predaqueen lands with a thunderous boom, and her prey whines loudly in a tongue that means nothing to her. Its wounded, she approaches with caution, it's not yet dead. It's trying to crawl back with its remaining limbs, turning into its belly as if it would get away any faster.

She slams a massive paw on its back, and thrusting her helm down, she makes quick work on detaching its head from its frame, and finally, it falls limp and colors drain away. Its helm is tossed to the side.

Her children peep, and Predaqueen purrs as she starts to devour the remains of the drone. Fresh and still warm steel is always preferable to old and rusted over, no matter how sweet the rust was, her frame would process it easier, and adding its material to her frame would feel smoother. Her children trot to her, sniffing around her meal as she makes work with its wings, tearing off pieces and heating them.

The processed energon leaking from its frame tastes _disgusting_ , and when she tears off an arm, she shakes the limp to force out the bitter fluid. Whatever it was eating, it certainly wasn't pure.

She pays no attention to the silver speck high out of range of her sensors, only minding her children as they bat around the helm of her meal.

  


* * *

  


It was a startling discovery, Starscream circles high over the predacon, that it saw mechs as _prey_. It was eating a drone, killing it quickly and _devouring_ its frame. The thought of working so close with a predacon makes his plating flutter in fear. When would Predaking finally snap and eat them?

He's feeding a live-stream to the Nemesis command bridge, and he has little doubt that Megatron is watching the apex predator eat one of his soldiers. Perhaps this would finally convince the old fool to get rid of the predacons for good this time.

  


Starscream's hopes were dashed when he returns to the command hub, Megatron is watching how the predacon fought in the air. Despite its grand size, it moved with a calculated grace even seekers could not manage. It had one goal in mind, survival.

It was _thriving_. It could care for itself and its young. But how? Where was it getting fuel? It wasn't taking fuel from the fallen drone, refusing to as it shook out its energon.

“My lord Megatron, I insist that we do away with these _beasts_.” Starscream seethed, “If we cannot control this monster than we must destroy it.”

It's no secret that Starscream detested the predacons, Megatron straightens his back, crossing his arms and taps a finger under his elbow as he thinks on the footage before him.

The mech that was devoured, a drone, was still a loss on their numbers, and the drone's squad-mates were hysterical upon arrival. There was nothing they could do to help their teammate. He had been begging for his life, and yet the predacon did not acknowledge any word from the drone.

It ended his life without a moment of hesitation.

For once, Megatron thinks upon Starscream's request.

Truthfully speaking, the probability of him controlling the female was slim to none. The resources it would require and the number of soldiers that _will_ be lost in the attempt to contain the beast was to great. It wasn't a _simple animal_ , as Megatron had found Predaking not to be. This was a conscious being, self aware and dangerous. It could think, strategic, and it could execute those strategies with remarkable ease and without remorse.

This was an apex predator. It didn't fear them, it saw them as _food_ and _prey_. There was no _controlling_ an apex predator.

The once-poet in Megatron detested having to bring down such a magnificent creature, but the warlord knows there might not be another option.

“...Soundwave, where is Predaking?”

The hub locates the resident predacon in an instant. The large mech is currently within the servos of Knockout.

“...Starscream, your report states that there are three younglings?”

The seeker narrows his optics, “Correct my lord.”

Megatron pauses the video, the image of the younglings visible for a moment as they take cover under their carrier.

Megatron grins wide, “Soundwave, construct a cage for them. If Predaqueen will not come to me willingly, then she will come for the sake of her young.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Sorry that this took so long but FINALLY HOLIDAY SEASON is over for me! My work schedule isn't so hectic and I've got more time to write Long Live the Queen. thank you guys so much for sticking around! We're finally starting to get going with the plot! 
> 
> For those of you that are squeamish, be aware that I'm not going to let up. I'm going to try and keep it as real as possible. There's not going to be the whole 'Predaking saves the day and Predaqueen accepts him without a fight' bullshit. I think the whole 'love at first sight' thing in most fics are a huge turn off for me, but its so hard to find a slow burn story that makes sense and doesn't take aspects from the characters that make us love them.  
> I want everyone to notice how Predaking isn't thinking of 'love' and instead he's geared towards 'reproduction'. For predacons, in my opinion, 'love' isn't a real factor in their life-cycles. 
> 
> I know its short but I thought it would be better than nothing.
> 
> I've been thinking about a side project. Since you guys seem to like my world building, I've been thinking of doing a Mer-formers world building with the Lost Light crew as explorers but I'm still unsure if that was something you'd guys enjoy.


End file.
